Until The End of Time
by samalmightyx
Summary: No matter what path she takes, or what life she lives... she'll always belong with one man. "How can you love a man like him?" She sat back, her eyes defiant. "It's easy, like breathing." ( Bucky x OFC) Just a Collection of scenes for my OC and her super long and complicated relationship with James Buchanan Barnes.
1. A Small Man Makes a Big Impression

**_In 1943, a small Steve Rogers makes a big impression on Charlotte Mason at Camp Lehigh._**

* * *

" ** _Êtes-vous sûr que c'est la bonne idée?_** " Charlotte spoke softly to her mentor as they stood back and watched Colonel Phillips introduce himself to the line of soldiers before them - all of which were eager to prove their strength and loyalty to their country.

Charlotte noticed Steve Rogers among the line, it was nearly impossible to miss him. He was the smallest one there - his height at weight nearly half of every other man present. This was both worrisome and admirable to the redhead, who had initially pursed her lips at the sight of him.

She and Dr. Erskine stood some feet away to observe like they've been instructed to do since arriving on Camp Lehigh. She had leaned over to whisper her doubts to Erskine after exchanging a rather polite although forced smile with Steve when he seemed to have recognized her. What she forgot at times was that she was quite impossible to forget. Amongst them was also Margaret "Peggy" Carter, an agent of the Strategic Science reserve that did not mind in the least showcasing her superiority to the soldiers by punching one of them after a smart remark. Charlotte couldn't keep the small pleased smirk from lifting the corner of her lips after the display, that is, until Abraham had nudged her with a halfhearted disapproving look.

To Charlotte's worries, Dr. Abraham Erskine replied confidently with, "I am sure, **_ma fille_** . It is what must be done to stop Schmidt."

"But...Steven is so small, _Docteur_. How will he compare to the other men?" She meant no harm in her question. She wasn't trying to argue with her mentor, nor was she trying to insult Steve's potential; she had been just worried. There was so much at stake.

" _ **Nous verrons**._"

Charlotte could only sigh in reply.

 _Yes, we will see._

* * *

Multiple obstacle courses and training exercises littered the property and she found herself getting a tad dizzy just watching as many of them were quite literally running in circles. It's been some weeks since the World Expo and while she was relieved to have been done with searching the country for suitable candidates, she always grew more and more nervous as the big day approached. Soon, one of the many men around her will be chosen as the first subject to participate in Project Rebirth. Every morning Dr. Erskine dragged her out of bed and every morning her stomach twisted in knots.

The decision was crucial to success. She feared another failure.

It was also hard watching Steve struggle to keep up with the larger and stronger men around him, but Charlotte also found that she admired him greatly for his unyielding determination. While his muscles were small, he was still strong in many other ways.

He was smart.

On one particularly memorable day, she sat with Agent Carter in a jeep as Steve and the other soldiers were tasked with running around the perimeter of the camp. A grueling five miles in total with no breaks. While Charlotte could sprint that course the whole way through without breaking a sweat, she found that many of the men were quite pathetic when it came to most of the exercises and often whined and groaned later in their bunks about the harsh treatments. Excluding Steve Rogers of course, though she had been worried on multiple occasions that he was about to kneel over during many of the exercises.

She had heard the rhythmic marching of the soldiers feet half a mile away though she only turned just in time to see them come around a bend. Her shoulders slumped as she caught sight of Steve struggling to keep up behind them.

The drill sergeant gave the order to halt, then he pointed at a dull flag on top of a single rusted pole.

"That flag means we're only at the halfway point! First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Ms. Mason!"

Charlotte had rolled her eyes as each man - _expect one_ \- scrambled over one another to get a dirty old flag to sit beside some women in a car.

They had failed, spectacularly. Which both amused her and disappointed her. The men were ordered to fall back in line and she was about to turn forward when her small soldier stepped up to the plate. Ignoring his superior's order to fall in, he took one calculating look at the flagpole and took action.

She leaned forward in interest and raised her brows when Steve managed to retrieve the flag on top of the post without even having to jump an inch in the air. She shared an amused and impressed glance with the female British agent as the flag pole fell over after only loosening a few bolts and screws. He had grabbed the flag, passed his stunned comrades, and thanked his drill sergeant while handing over the measly fabric all within a minute. Steve hopped up besides Charlotte, gifting her a tired, but friendly nod in hello. (He had grown accustomed to her lingering presence, and hardly blushed during eye contact anymore with her.)

Charlotte flicked the rim of Steve's helmet back in jest as the jeep started forward when it fell in his eyes and gave him a proud little smile at his intelligent display.

* * *

Despite his intelligence, Charlotte still had her doubts about Steve, ignoring her growing fondness of him, and continued to wonder why Dr. Erskine was so adamant that he be chosen for the first subject. Regardless, she kept quiet for the most part and followed the doctor's instructions to keep a watchful eye on the unique soldier. Each day, she was surprised by something he did. Something smart, or resilient, but her favorite was when he had done something so very, very brave...

And stupid. God, it had been so stupid. She didn't know whether to hug him in pride or hit him upside the head for his recklessness.

On that day, she quietly shadowed her dear mentor, listening intently to his and Colonel's conversation on who should be picked for the first experiment that would take place at the end of the week. It had been a month since approving Steve's forms. Dr. Erskine's vote was obvious, as was the Colonel's.

"Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's fast, he obeys orders. He's a _soldier,_ " Phillips stated gruffly, and Charlotte glanced at said _soldier_ with a wrinkled nose. All she could think about was how the man tormented Rogers ever chance he got. His filthy looks he'd cast her way. The obnoxious way he walked with his chest puffed up and his chin held high, casting aside many of the younger and less skilled soldiers simply because he could.

"Il est un tyran," Charlotte muttered lowly, ignoring Colonel Phillip's glare at her for speaking up.

The Colonel hadn't been her biggest fan and it had to do with her inability to take orders and her apparent lack of respect for her superiors. What he failed to understand was that she was not there to be anyone's soldier _and_ Charlotte did not see him as her superior. She was there for Dr. Erskine; she was loyal only to her doctor. And no matter how much it bothered Colonel Phillips, _she_ _had the final say_ in the chosen subject for Project Rebirth. And she knew for a fact that she would quite literally chose anyone else over _Gilmore Hodge_.

"He is a bully," Dr. Erskine translated while also nodding in agreement.

Phillips huffed, barely refraining from rudely laughing at the pair. "You don't win a war with niceness, Doctor." He stepped around the two so he could poke around in a box in the bed of a military truck they stood beside. He briefly looked Charlotte in her extraordinary eyes and said, "Ms. Masson, you win wars with guts." He snatched up what Charlotte knew was a grenade and before she could do anything to stop him he pulled the pin and tossed it in the middle of the rows of soldiers doing jumping jacks. "Grenade!"

Charlotte moved to step forward, but Phillips grabbed a hold of her arm in a tight grip. She knew she could easily break free, and he knew it too, but she still stayed put, nervously watching as the soldiers all scattered away from the threat that had dropped from the sky. _Surely he wouldn't kill these men just to make a point, right?_

All except one ran away.

" _Wait_ ," Colonel Phillips hissed in her ear as she finally yanked her arm free and took another step forward. "It's a dud."

Steve Rogers had been the one to dive forward, curling his body over what she was sure would be his death sentence had what Phillips said end up being false.

He had shouted for everyone to get back. Steve closed his eyes and every muscle in his body tensed in preparation. Charlotte held her breath, waiting. When nothing happened she let out a long, shaky breath as Steve sat up and looked around - completely confused.

"It's a dummy grenade!" Someone called out and all the hidden soldiers peeked out from their cover and looked at their smallest comrade in bewilderment. "All clear!"

Steve Rogers gulped before his eyes landed on Dr. Erskine, Charlotte, and Colonel Phillips. Charlotte even noticed his gaze reaching Agent Carter. "Was this a test?"

The redhead put a hand to her frantically beating heart and let out a short laugh. Then she smiled, one of the widest smiles she's ever shown since forcibly leaving her home when she was still just a girl. She rushed forward to help the brave little soldier up from the ground. She spoke rapidly in her mother tongue as she dusted him off, doing poorly at hiding her admiration and excitement. And Steve, bless his soul, smiled and nodded along to her quick speech and bizarre hand gestures, not having a clue on what she was saying, but didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. Once she was satisfied with his appearance she grasped him by his hands, reminding herself to be gentle.

"Steven! _C'était incroyable! Je n'ai jamais vu une telle bravoure_. You are simply too magnificent for an ordinary man. I am speechless," the redhead concluded, grasping his hands between them while her green eyes sparkled. This time he did blush, all the while trying to wave off her compliments by saying what he did was nothing special and anyone would have done the same given the chance. "If that is so," she started softly, a warm little smile on her lips, "then why is it that you were the only one?"

He blushed a deeper shade of red as she gave him one last dazzling smile before returning to Dr. Erskine's side; after linking their arms together, she talked his ear off about how Steve was the perfect candidate and how she couldn't wait to see all the good things he would do with newfound strength and speed. The doctor listened with a smug smile as she rattled on in French, German, and English all day, recalling all of the positive examples Steve had shown to prove him worthy of the serum.

The serum that would be created from _her_ _blood._ Serum that would help make an army of super soldiers to defeat the Nazi's, HYDRA, and more importantly, keep Johann Schmidt from taking over the world.

* * *

 **French**

 **" _Êtes-vous sûr que c'est la bonne idée?_ "** **= "Are you sure this is a good idea?" - _Charlotte to Dr. Erskine_ /** **"I am sure, ma fille." = "I am sure, my girl." _-Dr. Erskine to Charlotte_**

 **"How will he compare to the other men?" _-Charlotte_ / "Nous verrons." = "We will see." _-Dr. Erskine in reply_**

 **"Steven! _C'était incroyable! Je n'ai jamais vu une telle bravoure._.." = "Steven! That was amazing! I've never seen such bravery." _-Charlotte to Steve_**


	2. The Fox and Her Taste of Heroism

For this chapter, all _Italics within dialogue = speakers usin_ _g Russian._

and

 **Bold Words = Russian or French; translations at the end.**

PS.

I used both italics and the actual language for some reason, don't ask why. To remind you what language they're speaking? I really don't know. Just felt like it.

Also, I used Google translate, so translations or context or whatever could possibly be wrong, but let's pretend I know what's what for the sake of the story. And I did the thing where it's spelled with English alphabet so you can at least attempt to read along...Sometimes I'm bothered when peeps use Russian alphabet, because I can't even sound it out if I wanted to. That's just me though. If you haven't guessed already...I'm not Russian.

Sorry if I offend anyone by butchering either language. I know the translation can get lost sometimes. Any tips are appreciated.

PPS.

This chapter is a bit smutty at the end. Just a bit. Just a tad. Read with caution?

* * *

 ** _Sometime in the mid 1980's, The Winter Soldier and The Red Vixen are partners._**

 ** _She gets a small taste of what it's like to be the hero and he struggles to remember what love means._**

 ** _While the Winter Soldier is more known for his formidable fighting skills and ever growing body count, the Red Vixen proves to be the more skillful at_** ** _espionage and infiltration, although their employers often liked to test her limits from time to time. They also liked to test her loyalty._**

* * *

Her back had hit the wall and her breath caught from the force. A cold, hard, metal hand wrapped around her throat and she opened her eyes only to find black spots in her vision.

"Please, she gasped inaudibly. **"Pozhaluysta ostanovis!"**

" **Predatel.** " A deep voice growled at her. " _You should die for your betrayal._ "

She choked on a humourless laugh. " _And who will kill me? You? That would be the ultimate betrayal, _**volk.** _One that I do not deserve._ " His hand tightened and a gurgle bubbled up her throat. Her pale face began to turn red and her eyes became glazed.

" _You let him escape. He was your mission. If I don't kill you now, you'll be begging for death when they learn of your failure._ "

" **U nego byl rebenok na rukakh!** " She argued weakly, struggling to breathe through the hold her partner had on her small neck, but she knew better than to fight back, so she refrained from trying to rip herself away from him like they both knew she could. It would be best to show submissiveness when her wolf was so angry. " _The child was no more than a few months old. What should I have done?_ " Tears gathered in her eyes, both from her lack of oxygen and the emotions brewing inside of her as she tried to plead her case. " _Should I have slit the father's throat and let his blood drown the child? I may be a slave to HYDRA, but I refuse to be a monster._ "

The "like you" was implied, but she managed to stop herself from saying the words aloud. It would have been a low blow and hypocritical at best, but they both knew that she was the lesser of two evils. He killed far more often than she had, and he often did it with no mercy. No hesitation.

He'd heard the silent words anyway, judging by the way his shoulders stiffened and his hand on her throat tensed even tighter than before. After a few moments of the choking sounds from her lips echoed in the moonlit warehouse, his hand loosened, yet remained firmly on her neck, keeping her from collapsing on the concrete ground. She sucked in air greedily as her vision began to focus. Her green eyes immediately landed on his cold blue that glared at her through the dark curtain of his shoulder-length hair. She dare not speak, in fear of angering him enough to harm her again. She only continued to breathe deeply. The woman watched him. Waiting for his next move.

" _They'll punish you for this_." His voice, though still rough from neglect, was considerably softer than his angry growl before. Sweeter. Sadder. " _They'll make me do it,_ ** _malen'kaya lisa_** _. I'll have no choice. It'd be merciful to just kill you now._ "

" _Do what you feel you must,_ " She whispered. _"But know this, I do not regret letting that man run. I'll die by your hand, gladly, if it means that baby will grow up with her father."_

The metal resting against her neck vanished before he took a slow step forward, trapping her between his arms-one flesh, one metal-as he rested his palms on either side of her head. His broad chest pressed lightly against her breast and she closed her eyes as his forehead came to rest gently on hers.

" _Why?_ " Her partner rasped softly. A tone only reserved for her. His flesh hand moved so that his fingers could run gently through the short strands of her strawberry-blonde hair. It was barely enough to grasp, but he still liked to rake his fingers through it, to feel the softness of it. _"Why sacrifice your life for a man you do not know?"_

Sometimes he liked to imagine what she'd look like with hair that flowed down her back or over her shoulders. Sometimes he thought he knew exactly what it would look like, but it was nothing but a fleeting image under his eyelids. A whisper of a memory his mind was to damaged to recognize.

" _My life_?" She laughed bitterly while instinctively leaning into his gentle touch. Does a slave have a life? How could she, when she doesn't even own a name? She only knew the name _they_ gave her. " _My life means nothing._ "

" **Eto znachit vse dlya menya."**

" _Don't._ " She shook her head while a lone tear finally rolled down her cheek. It startled them both. Neither remember ever crying before. " _Don't say that. You don't mean it. You were about to kill me."_

 _"They'll make me hurt you."_ He grabbed her face with both hands, his eyes searching hers. He didn't like the defeat he saw in them. He didn't like the resolve. _"They'll have me torture you._ "

She only stared blankly at him in reply. She was accepting her fate, whatever it may be.

He suddenly ripped himself away from her; it made her flinch.

" _Why did you do this!?_ " He yelled while tugging as his own hair. He looked like a cornered animal, feral and desperate for escape. A wolf with his hackles raised and his teeth bared.

And she was a fox. Just as fierce as her wolf, only smaller and surprisingly less afraid.

" _I don't want to be a slave! I don't want to kill anymore! I don't want to be this any longer!_" She screamed in return while gesturing between them and he winced as if she pained him.

Without her, he would truly be what he constantly feared he would become. A monster. It was her that kept the dark from engulfing him. It was her that shined a single light on him. It was her that kept him from losing himself completely. He knew that he was more than HYDRA said he was. He knew he had a life before them. He knew they took something precious from him, but he just couldn't remember what it was, because they took his memories, too.

So if his little fox were to perish, and if it were to be by his own hands? Then he would finally break. Darkness would finally grab ahold of him and no other light, but her's would chase it away. He didn't want to be a slave anymore than she did. He didn't want to kill. He didn't want to be The Winter Soldier. And he certainly didn't want her to be The Red Vixen either, but it was all he knew. Without her, it would be all he'd ever be. But, with her by his side, he felt like more. He felt the most. And he feared much less.

He couldn't lose her. He needed her. He wanted her forever.

Perhaps if he remembered what it felt like to be human and not the machine HYDRA made him to be, he'd have known that what he felt for the small woman was love. That it wasn't obsession, or attachment. It was his deepest self reaching out to her's.

He only knew that he wanted her to stay by his side. That he would be lost without her. And that he liked her soft hair and her glowing green eyes.

But he wasn't the man he used to be. He was hardly a man at all. The Winter Soldier only knew how to follow orders. He knew how to kill, how to torture, how to fight. He knew how to be the weapon they wanted him to be.

But, he also knew his partner. The one he's had for as long as he can remember. The small woman before him who was clever, and cunning, and sly. She was quick, she was efficient. She had short red-orange hair that reminded him of the fur of a red fox. Her eyes were striking green that glowed in the dark. Despite her size, her strength matched to her partner's, although her reflexes and senses were unparalleled. The Winter Soldier was their most efficient weapon, but The Red Vixen was their prized jewel. She was HYDRA's greatest spy. Their slithering snake. However, she was also their second best assassin, which meant she could just as easily kill a victim as seduce one for intel. She was told that she was born to be The Red Vixen. It was destined, they said, for her to use her natural-born enhancements to aid HYDRA in their cause. She was a gift, they told her. She would help shape mankind with The Winter Soldier by her side.

She was known to never fail a mission. To never disobey orders.

* * *

Until the day her mission was to kill a man holding a baby in his arms. A man who was a so-called threat to HYDRA. A man who was to be eliminated as quickly and silently as possible. She had to make it look like an accident. So she was given a poison that would make the consumer die hours later to what doctors would deem as a heart attack.

The day had went how it usually went when they were needed to "shape the world". She and her partner were brought out of their containment. They were given their target. They were dropped off miles away so that they can stay hidden from civilians. They pinpointed the target's exact location before she infiltrated the building with her partner's careful instructions while he watched through the scope of his rifle on the opposite building if the man were to try to escape.

It wasn't until she entered the target's dark home that she realized that she would be killing the father of a newborn baby. She spied him, cradling the child in his arms while he sung in a language that was vaguely familiar to her though she couldn't remember ever learning. She made the mistake of remaining there, watching in curiosity and a hint of regret.

She should have left the room while she was unnoticed, hid until the target went to sleep so that she could drip the poison in his mouth before returning to wait with her partner so that they can confirm her kill. When she entered the home, she had been enthralled by the lullaby. She became curious.

Surprising her, the man addressed her in her primary language without even turning to look at her hidden form in the shadows. With her body covered head-to-toe in black, complete with a hood and the retractable turtle neck covering the lower half of her face, she was practically invisible in the dark, he had somehow known of her presence. Every breath of her's was as silent as her steps. She was trained to be swift, silent. Like a Ghost.

It was then she realized the old man must have had some form of training. A former HYDRA soldier perhaps? Or maybe even a recruit of an enemy organization? She knew nothing about him other than his name, approximate age, and a photo of his face that had to have been taken at least a decade earlier. She didn't even know his crime.

All she knew what that she was ordered to kill him. She heard one of her handlers mutter the words "thief" and "traitor" before she departed for her mission with The Winter Soldier. So he must have done something to anger HYDRA. Enough to want him dead. Enough to wake her up from her frozen slumber. Usually such a task would go to her partner, but the boss had been quite adamant that it be her to kill the enemy. Neither she nor her partner would dare question it.

The man asked her if she was sent to eliminate him. When he bravely turned towards her and she saw a flash of recognition and hidden pain in his eyes, but she couldn't remember ever encountering the target before. This confused her, but she kept her face neutral, her eyes emotionless.

The man was much older than she, shown by the aging skin around his eyes and mouth. The silver in his blond hair. She noticed he had green eyes. Eyes that reminded her of her own though less unnatural. More human. She thought perhaps her eyes would look more like his if she were more human.

The baby he held was a girl. A little baby girl with golden tufts of hair, swaddled in pink. Her eyes were closed.

She hadn't answered him. Too distracted by the small, yet beautiful human cradled protectively in his arms.

He asked what would happen to his daughter once he was dead. He admitted to having no wife, no other family able to care for her.

She replied that she would likely become an orphan. A couple would find her, take her in, love her, raise her as their own. The Red Vixen didn't know where her trying words of comfort had come from. She knew nothing of orphans, or adoptions, or what it was like to be cared for. She only hoped to ease the man's worries for his child before his death. It was the least she could do, as she would be the one to make the child an orphan. It would be her doing.

She felt guilt for the first time on a mission.

The man saw her weakness. She wasn't quick enough to hide the feeling from her eyes. He latched onto it and began to beg for his life. He told her of his supposed crime. Leaving HYDRA to start a life. For only a few years did he remain hidden from HYDRA before being found where he stood, in front of the infamous The Red Vixen-unknowingly to her, in the country she was born in. The man told her that the mother died in childbirth. That the baby was all that he had left of her. The one he sacrificed everything for. He told the small, deadly woman before him that he had promised his the child's mother moments before her death that he would take care of her daughter and raise her with the love and care the newborn deserved.

The Red Vixen listened. A foreign feeling tugging at her cold heart. It was a warmth that scared her. It enveloped her and brought the startling feeling of tears to her eyes. She told the man that she could not fail her mission. She just couldn't. He told her that he understood and somehow she knew he was speaking the truth. And it was that truth, the resolved look in his tear-filled eyes as he kissed his child on her small forehead that prompter her to make her decision.

But first, she had to know the little girl's name. It was nagging at her, in the back of her skull. She said as much, and the man looked surprised before a watery smile curled at the corner of his lips.

"Charlotte Rose," he told the small woman, smiling slightly. " _After my big sister. I lost her during World War II_." He looked down to his daughter. " _She looks just like her. I suppose you could say my family genes are strong._ "

The Red Vixen blinked. A sharp pain throbbed in her mind, but she ignored it and told the man to gather necessities. She told him that he didn't have much time. That her partner would grow impatient. A few tears traveled down his cheeks and he whispered his gratitude in the same familiar language that he sung to the baby. The Red Vixen understood him, and the ache in her skull intensified. It was so familiar. He was familiar. She didn't want to kill him. She didn't think she could.

She sat, stiffly on a chair in the small kitchen, staring blankly at the wall as she listened to the man gather a few bags of necessities like she instructed. She would aid him safely out of the building before distracting her partner long enough for the man to have a chance at survival.

" _I am ready_ ," the man told her softly, though it still caused her to flinch in surprise. She looked at him, how he struggled to hold his sleeping baby and the bags hanging from his shoulders.

Without thinking, she reached for the child. He took a step back and clutched the little girl tighter to his chest. She didn't understand the hurt she felt at watching him cower away. However, he saw it there in her eyes and his own softened. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly handing the child over to the lethal spy before him. The woman gently cradled the baby in the crook of her left arm before snatching one of his bags of his shoulder to lighten the load so that he could move faster. She tried to ignore the way her heart pounded abnormally. She tried to keep her eyes from looking at the weak, little fist that latched onto the leather of her amour. She ordered the man to follow her every move and to keep up with her at all costs. They didn't have much time left. She lead him down the staircase, before directing him towards the back door that lead to an alley she hoped would be out of her partner's eyesight. Then she led him further away from where she knew The Winter Soldier was perched and found him a car that would get him to wherever he chose to go.

She watched him hotwire the car before helping him settle his things in the backseat. She hesitated before returning his child. She looked at her sleeping face and slowly traced her index finger along the baby's brow. The little girl opened her eyes and The Red Vixen gasped softly. Little green eyes looked up at her, unafraid. Curious. Innocent.

" **Elle est belle**." The Red Vixen stated in what she assumed was her target's mother tongue; completely unaware how she knew the language she guessed to be French. She spoke in a whisper, afraid that she might startle the baby if she spoke any louder.

When she looked up at the man, she was startled to see tears once again in his eyes. Mistaking it for fear for his child, she quickly, yet carefully gave her to him.

" **Où dois-je aller**?" He asked her, gently rocking the child as she stirred within his arms. A little pale hand reached out for her.

"America," she told him. " _Somewhere populated. Somewhere you can blend in. They found you, because you chose this small town._ " She looked around, fighting to ignore the way the ache in her skull pounded at the sight of a bakery at the end of the street. She couldn't keep from rubbing at her temples with the tips of her fingers. Her action was not unnoticed by the man before her. " _You know how to get the rest of what you need? Passports, documents?_ " He nodded and she sighed in relief, for she knew that she could not help him beyond this point.

" _What will happen to you_ , Red Vixen?"

Her eyes snapped toward him at the name given to her by the people she hated. A voice inside told her that wasn't her name, but the thought was gone as fast as it came.

" _I imagine I'll be punished for my failure._ " She looked around once more, sighing at the way the man's face seemed to fall at her words.

" _I'm sorry._ "

" _I'm not,_ " she told him honestly, surprising them both. " _Now go._ " She gestured to the running car.

He laid his child gently in his baby carrier in the passenger seat, before settling into the driver side. He shifted the gear, but a quiet knock on the window kept him from stepping on the gas pedal. He rolled the window down for the woman, restraining himself from saying what he really wanted, knowing that if he told her the truth, it would only cause more problems. It'd frighten her like it always did whenever she learned the truth. Whenever he tried, it never turned out well.

" **Je te souhaite bonne chance** , Mr. Mason," she said sincerely in flawless French which both elated and saddened him all at once.

" **Je vous remercie. À cause de vous, Charlotte et moi resterons une famille.** "

She shocked herself by saying, " **La protéger.** "

 **"Avec ma vie."** She was even more shocked by how much his answer pleased her.

She nodded to him once in goodbye, before backing away until she was engulfed by shadows. She waited until he was no longer in sight before turning to find her partner. Just as she was about to climb the side of the building she left him at, a hand wrapped around her throat and she was dragged into the empty warehouse. She barely had time to read the sign that told her it was an old butcher shop before she was pushed inside violently.

* * *

That's how she found herself explaining to her partner why she would intentionally fail a mission given to her. Because, despite HYDRA's efforts, she still had a heart. And though it was a weakness, she still felt empowered by her decision to save a life rather than take one. It pleased her even more that she'd saved two.

It was because of her heart and her foolishness accompanied by the thought of her dead and the overwhelming fear it evoked within The Winter Soldier that he found himself feeling quite frazzled. Desperate. He didn't know what for. He just knew that her mistake will cost them both.

 _Her. You're desperate for her. Show her._

 **"Ty durak,"** He told her before doing something neither of them expected.

He roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her forward so that he could press his lips to her in a bruising and nearly painful kiss.

Neither of them remembered kissing one another before, but it felt easy. Familiar. Almost natural for their tongues to meet and fight for dominance. She let him win, and she found that it was easy, too; surrendering herself to him was so easy. His hands held her small hips. Her fingers grasped his hair. Her back hit the wall once more and she gasped as his mouth moved from her mouth and to her neck, an animalistic growl in his throat as she whimpered for him.

Before her mind could process the gravity of the situation she found herself in, she was tugging at his leather armoured vest. The sound of their various weapons clattered on the cement floor and soon her own uniform joined them. It was when his torso was bare and he was panting as he held her up against the wall that he paused to watch her small, pale fingers trace the jagged scars surrounding his metal limb where it met with the flesh of his chest. He held his breath as she turned her head so that she could kiss the red star painted permanently onto his silver shoulder. It wasn't until her glowing eyes met his icy blue that he assaulted her swollen pink lips once more.

And although his movements were hurried and rough and his hands left bruises on her skin, she still threw her head back in pleasure whenever he hit _that spot_. And he would moan sinfully when her nails dug into his shoulder blades so deeply that the tips of her fingers came back red. She'd chant the name that she gave gave him and he'd whisper the one he gave her hotly in her ear. And when she reached her peak, he swallowed her screams with another kiss to the mouth and she felt tears of pain and pleasure pooling in her eyes when he didn't stop, only kept his bruising pace as he fucked her against the wall with a desperation she hardly seemed to understand, but relished in anyway. All she knew was that she wanted him and despite the pain, she enjoyed it. The feeling of his mouth of her's. The feeling of his strong arms holding her up. The feeling of him inside her. It was as close to Heaven as she was going to get.

And they kept at it until the sun came up, thinking only of each other and how much they enjoyed the sounds they made. The feel of their bodies pressed together.

They knew that once they were extracted by their handlers and they were returned to thier cold, hidden base, a punishment was waiting for the both of them. One that would require him to hurt her until she was bloody and broken, only to heal so he may start again. It's happened before. She would forgive him, as she was prone to do, but it would teach them a lesson neither of them will forget. The scars would make sure of it.

Disobey orders, pay the price. And the price was always paid full, by both of them, no matter who was at fault. HYDRA knew, to punish one was to punish the other. They knew who The Winter Soldier and The Red Vixen were before they became slaves. They knew who they were long after they were programmed to do their bidding.

Two tortured souls in love.

No amount of memory erasing could change that.

If only they could remember what it was they were feeling as they remained intertwined until morning. As the wolf took his little fox over, and over, and over until tears streamed down her face and blood dripped down his back. Until her hips were decorated in finger shaped bruises, one side darker than the other. Until his neck was littered with bite marks and her nails coated in red.

When it was time for them to dress and make their way across town to the extraction point, he asked her quietly to forgive him. For what, she wasn't sure. For the night of rough love making, or the beating they were both sure to come? Either way, she replied by gently kissing the corner of his mouth, lips tingling at the rough hair growing along his jaw and cheeks. Her eyes told him that she wasn't afraid and he admired her for it, but she could see the pain in his and the fear that he tried to hide.

Fear of losing her.

It wasn't until he was forced to punish her and then watch as she was strapped aggressively to a chair he hated with all his being that he realized that was exactly what he was going to do. He was next. And if he was next then he was definitely going to lose her. Lose the night they had together. Lose all the feelings she evoked. While certain things he was programmed to remember, everything else would be stripped clean.

And it wouldn't be the first time.

It were almost like he were destined to lose her. Over, and over, and over again. His only hope was to find her once more.

One more time, one more time, _just one more time. Please._

* * *

 **Russian**

"Please, she gasped inaudibly. **"Pozhaluysta ostanovis!"** **= "Please stop!" -RV**

" **Predatel** You should die for your betrayal." **= "Traitor." -WS**

" _And who will kill me? You? That would be the ultimate betrayal, _**volk** " **= "wolf." -RV**

 **U nego byl rebenok na rukakh!** **"= "He had a baby in his arms!" -RV**

"They'll punish you for this. They'll make me do it, **malen'kaya lisa** " **= "little fox." -WS**

 _"My life means nothing."_ ...

 **"Eto znachit vse dlya menya."** **= "It means everything to me." -WS**

 _"Dont. Don't say that. You don't mean it. You were about to kill me."_

 ** _French_**

 **"Elle est belle." = "She's beautiful."**

 **"Où dois-je aller?" = "Where should I go?"** "America..."

 **"Je te souhaite bonne chance,** Mr. Mason. **" = "I wish you good luck,"**

 **"Je vous remercie. À cause de vous, Charlotte et moi resterons une famille." = "Thank you. Because of you, Charlotte and I will remain a family."**

 **"La protéger." = "Protect her."**

 **"Avec ma vie." = "With my life."**

 **Russian**

 **"Тy durak." = "You're a fool."**

* * *

 **If you guessed that the mysterious "target" aka Mr. Mason with the baby is The Red Vixen/Charlotte's brother...then you guessed correct. (Spoiler? Kinda. Not really, I pretty much gave that away with the whole "She looks like my sis that I lost in the war" thing.) More on him in future chapters and how he** _and_ **Charlotte may have ended up involved with HYDRA/KGB. And how will the baby fit into the story later on?**

 **Any guesses?**

 **Any comments?**

 **No? Okay.**


	3. Beauty and the Soldier

_**In 1944, a redheaded, French beauty meets up with a blue-eyed, American soldier for a night of dancing in a rundown pub.**_

* * *

 _She's just so damn beautiful_ , the soldier thought, taking in the lengthy curls of her strawberry blonde hair as it tumbled down her back.

One side was pinned away from her face to show off her profile: pouty pink lips, small nose, sharp cheekbones. He'd have been happy just to stare at her all night.

He admired the way the dark forest green of her dress seemed to bring out the spring green in her eyes and the golden flecks within them. It also complimented the soft paleness of her skin, especially her neck and collarbones as the sleeves hung of her shoulders in a tasteful, yet tantalizing way. She'd worn white kitten heels with matching white gloves.

A fond smile curved at the corner of his cupid-bow lips when a vibrant pink dusted across her cheeks as she finally spotted him across the room, eyeing her full form with an intensity in his eyes that always managed to leave her a bit breathless and bashful.

 _He's absolutely gorgeous_ , she sighed mentally, watching the way he confidently strode over to her in his formal soldier garb. He came toward her all tall, bright, and undeniably _sexy_.

She had the urge to cover her heated cheeks with her palms as a devilishly smug smirk played at his mouth. Oh, how she loved just looking at his mouth.

For so long, she'd been denying to herself that what she felt for him wasn't romantic. That she wasn't drawn to him by attraction or desire. It was only loneliness, or perhaps even a yearning for friendship. To connect with someone- _anyone really_ \- that gave her the time of day. But _this_? This was different. It was just so much _more_.

It was everything.

It was actually somewhat terrifying, the feelings blooming in her heart that would stop it for the smallest of moments before kicking into overdrive. It had happened when he halted before her, close enough to feel the heat of his body as he greeted her with a husky and low tone.

Playfully, acting posh and gentlemen-like, he greeted her with a little bow, " _Charlotte_."

" _James_ ," she replied similarly, failing to hide the small quirk of her lips as she curtsied for him.

He chuckled back at her while also roaming his eyes over every inch of her face. He was committing it all to memory. He never wanted to forget the way she was looking at him. The way her eyes were lit up. Her smile warm.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone look as beautiful as you, Char. I'm one lucky, lucky man."

She blushed once more and ducked her head shyly and he felt proud, knowing that he was the one to make her glow so brilliantly.

After finding some of her lost confidence, she retorted, " **Peut-être que vous devriez regarder dans un miroir.** Hm?" She arched a groomed brow at him as he bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling. (Maybe you should look in the mirror.)

"You know"- he sighed dramatically -"it's not fair." She tilted her head in question, eyes transfixed on his lips as he smirked. "The way you get me so wound up with words I don't even understand. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you do it on purpose."

Charlotte sent him a smirk of her own before replying in a sly tone, "Maybe I do... _James_."

Though he didn't seem to have a reply, his eyes darkened in such a way that made her stomach flip and her toes curl.

She had to raise her chin to keep eye contact when he took a closer step, as he's about a head taller than her. Gazing into his sapphire eyes, her mouth went dry and her mind was blank when he gently took one of her much smaller hands in his. Bucky's hand was warm, calloused, and it engulfed hers in the delightful way where women wanted to feel protected and comforted by a man. With her hand in his, she found that she felt a little less of a soldier in the middle of a war and a lot more of a woman with the man of her dreams. She found a sense of solace at that thought. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so free. Normal.

And he, too, felt something wonderful when he held her hand. And when he heard her laugh; as he did when he surprised her by suddenly pulling her close in the middle of the dance floor, urging their bodies to sway to the slow ballad played by the pianist in the corner of the smoky, dim lit room. She couldn't help but giggle sweetly at him when he started their dance before even finishing asking her permission. How could she say ever no? She couldn't, not when he gazed at her like she was the sun, moon, and the stars all wrapped into one. Not when he smiled at her so sweetly.

He adored how much smaller she was, and how well she seemed to fit against him. It was like they were made for each other, the way she tucked her head under his chin and lay her ear against his chest. He was aware that she would be able to hear the racing of his heart (even without her ear pressed against it); however, he didn't mind letting her know how she made him feel. He'd never be embarrassed for the way she made his heart race or his body sing with just a simple touch or just by hearing her name.

Bucky never tried very hard to keep his growing feelings for the redheaded, French beauty a secret. The blue-eyed Sergeant just didn't see the point. He wanted her and what better way to get her than to be truthful about his intentions?

He used to let her catch him staring at her; it'd make even the tips of her ears turn pink. Sometimes he would sneak up behind her, only to whisper sweet nothings in her ear; she'd startle before rambling in her mother tongue while frantically, although harmlessly, whacking him away with her small hands. She'd shriek words that made no sense to him at the time; nevertheless, he had no problem gathering that he had made her flustered. No doubt, she had been reprimanding him, while also pretending that she hadn't enjoyed every word. That she didn't enjoy it when he called her beautiful or when he called her Angel when saying good morning.

He didn't care when Steve or the others would tease him in front of her, very loudly accusing him of being lovesick or wrapped around her finger.

He never denied it, which always kept her up at night, smiling dreamily in the dark.

It was that night, when she danced with him while wearing a pretty green dress in a old, rundown pub that it was time to tell her handsome soldier that she was undeniably and wholeheartedly in love with him. With him and all that he was, and all that he wasn't.

She loved his stormy eyes, his wolfish smile, and his dark hair. She fell for his quick wit and his never ending charm. She adored the sound of his voice and the way he laughed with his head thrown back, eyes crinkled shut.

She admired his bravery, on and off the battlefield.

Charlotte loved his unbreakable loyalty and never ending kindness to those he cared deeply for.

She had fallen for Bucky's strength and determination while marching in a war he hated being a part of, and yet carried his rifle on his back so he can continue watching his brothers'.

She loved that he wasn't afraid to admit he was afraid, at least, not to her.

She loved that he was honest.

But, most of all, she knew it was time to tell him, because of the way it felt being in his arms. Every nerve in her body came alive with just one touch of his hand on her skin. She felt like her soul was matched to his. She knew deep in her bones, that she was and would always be... his.

Large, warm, calloused, _gentle - he was always so gentle_ \- hands glided from her waist to the the small of her back so that he held her body firmly against his. Bucky rested his temple against the top of her head and seemed to breathe in the scent of her hair and she closed her eyes in comfort. She heard him humming low in his throat along with the gentle notes of the piano keys floating around them. Despite the other bodies in the room, it was as if it were only them, together. Holding each other like it would be their last day on earth.

He loved her. Her unyielding strength, her fierce attitude, her caring nature.

Her small, yet warm smiles and her unnatural glowing green eyes.

Soft hands that hold him up.

Shy laughter and coy words in French.

The way she sits - her knees drawn up with her cheek resting on them as she listens and watches with her full attention when he tells her stories from back home.

How she can take down a handful of men, each one twice her size without even breaking a sweat. The way she scolds him whenever he tries to protect her and how she gently cleans Bucky's injuries, her brows pinched with worry whenever he manages to get himself hurt by doing so. The way she kisses his forehead when she's finished.

Charlotte knew he loved her, even without him having ever said so. And he knew she loved him, too. That's the best love of all, isn't it? The kind that didn't need to be said aloud for it to be true. The kind that left no doubts. The kind of love that would last even after death.

It had started with just a chance encounter between them. A night in New York when fireworks lit up the sky. It had taken just a look, a few words, and a couple of smiles to leave an everlasting memory in their minds. An imprint on their soul. Seemingly a chance encounter, where they barely caught each other's name before having to go their separate ways. They never even expected to meet again, but fate can be quite resilient when it wanted to be.

The slow song they danced to was nearly to its end when Charlotte gently pulled away from him so she could look into his eyes once more. His arms still held her while she moved her hands to gently rest on the lapels of his uniform. The words on the tip of her tongue made her nervous, but excitement was what opened her mouth to let the words run free.

"I love you, **mon doux et intrépide soldat**." (my sweet and fearless soldier.)

His smile was so bright, so blinding, that it could have rivaled the sun. She had a brief, fleeting thought where she considered it should be him being called an angel, for he looked so heavenly, it had to be impossible for him be human.

Bucky's hands moved to cup her face. His hold had been firm, yet soft, only adding to the heat blossoming on her pale cheeks. He leaned his face in close, their bodies practically one. Her hands came up to hold his wrists, keeping him there-where she wanted him forever. He closed his eyes and gently skimmed his nose against hers. Her mouth fell open slightly, her breath tangling with his. She ached for him, his lips, his hands, his body; however, she remained patient for him like he'd always been for her.

"I love you," he murmured with his lips just barely hovering over her own, testing her self control. He made her a promise. "I'll love you 'till the end of time."

Before she could even think of a reply, he gently pulled her face forward and their lips finally met in a passionate and electrifying first kiss that nearly brought her to tears.

They stood there, lips dancing, unaware that their slow song ended and the bodies around them continued in a fast and rhythmic pace to a new tune. It was like the world blurred around them as they kissed. All they knew were hands, lips, teeth, and tongue. All they knew was love. In that moment, all they knew how to be were Char and Bucky.

A woman dancing with her man in a smoky, dim lit, pub-sharing a kiss for the very first time.

A red-headed beauty and a blue-eyed soldier exchanging hearts.


	4. Shooting Stars

**Post-TWS, four-five months before AoU**

 **Slight Domestic!Avengers**

 **Angsty. Some violence mentioned.**

* * *

 _ **In 1944, Charlotte once showed Steve the brilliance of stars.**_

 _ **Many years later, Steve makes a wish and** **Bucky remembers something important.**_

* * *

New York, 11:15 PM, Early 2015.

Captain America couldn't sleep.

He lied there, silently, on his back on his personal floor of the Avenger's Tower. Literally, on his floor as he found his bed much too soft for his liking. He stared out the floor to ceiling window, eyeing all the lights in the city below, trying to remember the last time he'd actually seen the stars. When was the last time he actually just sat and gazed at them? When did he last admire the stars with his full attention?

He can't remember, and this disappoints him. Has he really been so preoccupied since coming out of the ice, that he hasn't had the time to stargaze? It wasn't like he was able to see them much back in his day either. And if he could, he hadn't really looked for he had much bigger things to hold his attention. For him, his old life was only couple of years ago, and yet his memory of the stars is lost on him. But he knows they must be beautiful; they're stars, why wouldn't they be?

So he yearns for a sight of them as he searched across the black sky beyond the skyscrapers. For a moment, he thinks he had found one, but it turned out to be an airplane in the distance.

He wonders if his lost friends can see the stars, wherever they may be.

Bucky and Charlotte.

Ever since the mess in D.C. almost half a year ago, he hasn't stopped looking for them, hoping for them to surface. It's like they've disappeared. It's like they never even existed in the first place.

Or, he's just horrible at finding people.

It's not like it's easy, searching for them, essentially on his own. Sure, Sam had helped... in the beginning. He was even quite optimistic. But as the days turns into months with no luck, Sam lost enthusiasm for the search, and only seemed to try when Steve came to him, talking about a lead that might send them on the right track. Even the other's have helped, or tried to, when they could. Tony, or Nat, and even Fury had occasionally put their own resources to the test, but they always came back empty handed and Steve would retreat to his floor to mope on his own. Once, Clint had made a comment, about Steve's old friends not wanting to be found and maybe Steve should just give up, focus on better and brighter things.

Steve punched a hole in the wall, told Clint and anyone else within hearing vicinity, that under no circumstances was he going to give up on his _family_. They needed him, whether they believed it or not. They were lost. Confused. Hurting. He could feel it in his bones. And he felt the same way without them. He felt lost in a world so much bigger and louder, and just so different from what he once knew. A scary world with aliens, skyscrapers, cell phones, and the occasional talking ceiling.

Steve needed them, too.

And maybe he was being a little selfish, searching for them so relentlessly, hoping to find them and bring them home. Maybe it's true, they don't want to be found, and that's why Steve had gotten so angry at Clint. For speaking the words he never could. Steve was hurting. He felt unwanted and even a little rejected, thinking that the only people he had left from his old life didn't want anything to do with him.

It was a heartbreaking thought, which is why he lied there alone, staring at the bright city lights, foolishly wishing for things that weren't possible. A look at the stars right in the middle of the city. To find people that didn't want to be found. Really, he was just wishing for a miracle.

And it was when his eyes started to droop from exhaustion that a slight tremor rocked beneath him. His eyes snapped open just as a resounding BOOM seem to quake the whole tower. He sat up, alert, but stopped himself to watch in horror and awe as a the city's glow all but flickered before going out in a tremendous wave that went as far as his eyes can see. In seconds, the whole city of New York when black and he was surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Until his eyes adjusted and he noticed a whole new source of light.

He rushed to his feet and took a cautious step towards the window, eyes on the big round lightbulb in the sky and it's accompanying little friends.

Thousands, or perhaps millions of them. They lit up the entire sky. He sucked in a breath at the sight of the stars that he had just so conveniently been dreaming of.

For a moment, he wondered if he were dead. How else would a sight be possible, there in front of him moments after wishing for it.

If he were dead, then he readily could have accepted this as his heaven, even it wasn't exactly what he thought it'd be; it was beautiful, peaceful, and it filled him with contentment. A fine heaven it would make indeed, if only this feeling lasted forever.

And yet, he was still alone, and all those beautiful feelings darkened inside him and his mouth closed into a bittersweet smile.

Of course, it wouldn't last. It never did.

Without thinking, his hand came up to rest on the glass in front of his nose, marveling at the cold barrier between him and the starry heavens up above. He wondered once more, where his lost friends could be, if they saw the sky like he was now. If they thought of him, missed him, and wondered about his well-being like he's been doing for them for months.

Steve leaned forward till his forehead touched the glass and his eyes closed as they begun to sting with tears.

He could admit that he found a happiness there with his Avenger's. Fighting evil and saving the world. Movie days, and pizza dinner nights. Training and sparring sessions. Jokes and games. Tony's big personality, Nat's secretive smirk with her all-knowing eyes, Clints sarcastic quips, Bruce's quiet wisdom, Thor boisterous laugh, and Sam's loyalty. They were all a part of him, all people he wouldn't ask to live without, but a part of him was still missing. Still searching for the final pieces to his puzzle. A puzzle the others already saw as complete. He's heard them talking, saying, even if Steve did find his missing puzzle pieces, they wouldn't fit like he expected him to. They were bound to be bent or chipped beyond recognition.

Steve didn't care, he just wanted them back. With him. He'd take what he could get.

He hoped one day, the other's would get the chance to see what he did. To meet the people he so clearly adored. To accept them, for their past and all the baggage they'd come with, like he had done the moment he laid eyes on them when he fought them in D.C. on the helicarriers.

The moment he saw Bucky's face and recognized Charlotte's glowing eyes. His metal arm, the dark curtain of hair. The scar over her eye, the lack of red curls. He knew he didn't care what HYDRA made them do over the past seventy years. There they were. They weren't dead. They were alive and he could have them back. _He could have them back._

His eyes opened as he leaned away from the glass. The heals on his palms came up to rub at his watery eyes in an attempt to free him from the tears that were moments from spilling. A shaky sigh came from his lips as he slowly sat at the edge of his bed, gazing at the bright sky in sadness, his hope dwindling.

He was about to go check on the other's in the dark tower to see if any of his friends were awake. Were any of them seeing what he was? Just as he moved towards the door, something at the corner of his eye stopped him. A brightness, a flashing of light that was curious enough to turn his head. What he saw, made him gasp and stagger back, his hand steadying himself against the wall.

A shooting star, flying in the distance and glowing brilliantly. Just for him.

And suddenly he remembered. He remembered the last time he saw the stars. When he actually sat and admired them longer than a fleeting glance.

* * *

 _It was during the war, on a mission with the Commandos. It was just outside of Paris and he was keeping watch while the others slept around a smoldering fire. He wasn't looking at the sky, he was looking at his hands. They were bigger, stronger than he was used to. Deadlier._

 _Just earlier that day, he and the others infiltrated a small HYDRA base hidden in a little rural town, causing terror within the citizens. He had to kill a few of them with his hands when his gun ran out of ammo. One of the men he killed wasn't a man at all, but just a boy, barely old enough to be handed a uniform and a gun. It made him sick, thinking about how easily he snapped the boy's neck and when the body dropped, his mask fell from his face, giving Steve the perfect view of the fear in his dead eyes._

 _"Steven?" A voice had whispered in the night. "Mon amie, are you alright?" (my friend)_

 _Without looking at her, he answered, "Yes, Charlie. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."_

 _"Un mensonge, mon cher capitaine. Vous oubliez que je peux voir dans le noir." (A lie, my dear captain. You forget that I can see in the dark.)_

 _"I said I'm fine." He rolled his eyes when he felt her plop down beside him on the log he found to sit on while he was patrolling around the camp._

 _"Sure you are." She said, and he could hear the smirk on her lips, but he still refused to look at her in fear of her seeing the haunted look he knew to be in his eyes._

 _What he didn't know, was that she had been watching him since they left the ruins of the HYDRA base. She'd already seen it. Which was why she snuck away from camp to check on him._

 _Gently, she took ahold of his bigger hands in hers, giving them a comforting squeeze that had his tense shoulders relaxing the slightest bit. There was something about seeing her small hands cradle his that soothed his mind._

 _"You shouldn't be looking at these," she admonished lightly, squeezing them once more. "You should be looking at_ those _."_

 _She nudged him gently, getting him to finally look at her. Charlotte wasn't looking at him though, she was looking at the sky, a small, peaceful smile curling at the corners of her mouth. He followed her eyes and found it hard to breathe for a moment. There, in the sky sat millions of stars, twinkling in the night sky and shining down on them._

 _"You know," she started quietly after a few minutes of stargazing, "I grew up not far from here. Thirty miles at most. It's strange being so close, and yet so very far away from home." He could hear the wistfulness in her voice. "Every night the sky was like this and my brother and I would wait until our parents went to bed before sneaking on to the roof outside of our window and we would wait."_

 _"For what?" Steve inquired, voice as soft as hers. He looked at her once more, and was startled to see the glistening in her glowing orbs. "Charlie?" He was worried._

 _She swallowed thickly, before replying without any trace of the sadness he saw on her face, "A shooting star."_

 _"Did you ever see one?" He asked her gently, watching her, wondering what it was that made her so sad. Steve was too afraid to ask, fearing she'd only push him away. It was hard to get her to talk about her family. And yet, here she was, telling Steve about her childhood, just to distract him from his deadly hands that she still held within her own._

 _She shook her head, and her smiled turned slightly bitter. "Non, mon cher, I didn't, but every night we would try again. Hoping for a chance to make a wish." (No, my dear.)_

 _"A wish?" Steve snorted and Charlotte nudged him again in playful offence._

 _"Oui, a wish. Don't you know that when you see a shooting star, you must make a wish? Only then would it come true."_

 _"You believe that?" He asked skeptically, knowing better than to rely on fairytales when he's seen so much destruction surrounding the war._

 _"I used to." She shrugged. In thought, she tilted her head. "And maybe, if I saw one now, I'd still make a wish. I think I would take that chance." She pursed her lips. "I'm not sure if I'd still hold the same hope I had when I was a child. But, I'd still take that chance."_

 _"What would you wish for?" The blond found himself asking without permission._

 _"A home." Her response was quick, as if she'd already known the answer before he asked. And she did. It was all she thought about. "A home. A family. Peace. With a man that I love."_

 _At the last part, Steve smirked._

 _"With Bucky, you mean."_

 _Her head snapped towards him, her glowing eyes wide and her mouth agape._

 _"What?!" She squeaked, and if it were day time, Steve would have better seen the way her cheeks flushed scarlet. "I do not know what-"_

 _"Sure you don't." Steve interjected, his voice teasing._

 _Her mouth snapped shut and she narrowed her eyes. After a few moments of silence, Charlotte sighed._

 _"I suppose James would make a suitable husband," She said in faux-contemplation, a thoughtful look upon her brows. Then she shook her head quickly. "Any other woman would be lucky to marry him, but he's just not my... type."_

 _Both of them knew just how much she really adored their favorite Sergeant though she has yet to admit it out loud for anyone to hear. Steve laughed softly before wrapping an arm around her small shoulders and shaking her fondly while holding her to his body._

 _Before Steve could answer, another voice cut in._

 _"Ouch, you wound me, Angel. And here I thought there was some chemistry between us."_

 _Charlotte's face burned as she covered it with both hands. Both men chuckled at her embarrassment, though not unkindly._

 _"James, I was simply saying-"_

 _"Hey, don't worry about it, Sweetheart. No offense taken. Just means I need to up my game a bit. I'll have you hooked in no time."_

 _"Bucky," Steve admonished as Charlotte groaned under her hands. "Quit teasing Charlie."_

 _"But Stevie!" Bucky whined playfully, causing Charlotte to giggle quietly. Though she was quick to stifle it, Bucky heard and it caused his grin to widen in triumph. "Anyway, I'm here for my watch, time to get some shut eye, punk."_

 _Steve simply nodded his head before tiredly heaving himself off the log, holding a hand out for Charlotte once he was steady. She took it with a fond smile and let him help her stand even though she didn't need him to. Steve knew that, but his mother made sure he was a gentleman before passing and he'd be damned to forget all of her advice on how to treat a lady. When Charlotte paused to look at Bucky as he slung his rifle off his shoulder to hold in his hands, Steve walked ahead to give them a moment alone, but he waited for her out of hearing range so he could walk her back to camp._

 _"Goodnight, Angel." Bucky took her hand and gave it a lingering kiss. She smiled despite herself and she couldn't help but to demand for him to be careful while alone in the dark. His eyes softened and his grin turned fond. "You know I will be." Then his smile was mischievous. "I'd hate break your heart if something happened to me."_

 _She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right despite his teasing. It would certainly break her heart. And the look she gave him told him as much. His smile softened once more into something a lot more earnest and caring. His eyes held a promise that put her worries at rest, at least for the night._

 _"I'll see you at sun up."_

 _She nodded quietly before beginning to walk towards camp. After a few meters away, he called her name. She turned to him and waited._

 _"If I see a shooting star...I think I'd make a wish for yours to come true." He said it so quietly, almost as if he were shy in that moment._

 _If she were normal, she wouldn't have heard him at all with how softly he spoke, but she did hear him, and quite clearly, too. It made her ears ring and her heart pound. A shaky breath left her lips before she smiled at him warmly._

 _She was thankful of the space between them, knowing he couldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes._

 _"Then I wish for something else," she told him after a moment of gathering herself, and he raised a brow in question. Her smile turned mischievous, like his did before. He and his comrades were beginning to be a bad influence on her. "Je souhaite que vous ne partez jamais. Je vous veux, à mes côtés, pour toujours." (I wish you never leave. I want you, by my side, forever.)_

 _"Aw, come on, Sweetheart!" Bucky groaned, though his smile remained constant. "You know I'm still learning, I don't understand when you speak like that."_

 _"Bonne nuit, James." (Good night)_

 _"Yeah, yeah," he sighed as she walked away giggling as he pouted. "Bonne nuit, Angel."_

 _The next morning, Bucky told Steve all about how he followed Charlotte when she got up, worried for her. He'd overheard their conversation about shooting stars and making wishes. With excitement, Bucky told his best friend as he was patrolling, he looked up at the sky just as a shooting star flew across, It all happened so fast, he'd almost missed it. Steve asked him if he made a wish and when Bucky smiled and nodded, he asked what he wished for._

 _"I don't know," Bucky admitted with a laugh, confusing his blond companion. He explained his conversation with Charlotte, how he told her he'd wish for her's to come true. "She said she changed it. Then she did that thing where she speaks French on purpose so I won't understand. But, I have a feeling that whatever it was...I just-it was the way she looked at me when she said it. Y'know. Like it was for me. For us. I'm telling you, Steve, she loves me. I know she does."_

 _"Why don't you tell her how you feel then, maybe once she knows, she'll admit it, too," Steve advised helpfully._

 _Bucky nodded thoughtfully, but a frown appeared on his handsome face._

 _"How could I? Over the sound of gunfire? This isn't exactly good timing, Steve. I mean, we're coming up on another HYDRA base tomorrow."_

 _"Well," Steve rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. His face brightens as a thought comes to him. "We'll be heading back to home base the day after tomorrow. We'll get to stay in town for a night or two to recoup before we catch a plane back to London. You could take her out, tell her over dinner or some dancing. I bet she wouldn't say no to a date with you, Buck."_

 _"Great!" Bucky smiled, clapping Steve on the shoulder happily before remembering that was a bad idea. Bucky cradled his hand against his chest, massaging his already sore palm. Steve smiled sheepishly and gave his friend a helpless shrug as Bucky frowned at his left hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."_

 _The blond chuckled as Bucky marches away, calling out for Jones, no doubt for more French lessons._

* * *

Steve made a choice right then while witnessing his first shooting star. He'd almost made a selfish wish. One where he'd get his friends-his family- and he wouldn't have to search for them any longer. But deep down, he knew they weren't ready. They'd come back when they were, of that he was positive. And he'd just have to wait, patiently, no matter how much he wanted otherwise. So instead, he wished that wherever they are, they'd look up and they'd get to see the stars like he was and they'd feel a moment of peace like he did. They deserved that if nothing else. Only then would he be able to let them go. He wouldn't stop searching, but he wouldn't be so worried about them if he only knew they were okay.

When he opened his eyes after he'd made his wish, he sighed, almost in disappointment as a strange whirring noise vibrated the walls of the tower. In another wave, every light in the city flickered back on.

JARVIS's sudden voice made Steve flinch as he apologized on Tony's behalf about the brief power outage due to a malfunction with a new upgrade to the Iron Legion- that there was nothing to worry about, Tony would explain himself in the morning if they cared enough to listen.

Feeling exhausted, Steve flopped down on his back on his overly cushioned bed and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Somewhere in Europe, 5:15 AM

Unbeknownst to Steve Rogers, two former HYDRA assassins sat in a loft of an old abandoned barn somewhere in rural France. Only an hour or so from the sun rising. Silent, and thoughtful; both refused to sleep. Too many of their demons appeared in their slumber and it would be no good to scream in the night and possibly out their position.

Charlotte Mason AKA The Red Vixen sat with her knees curled against her chest, trying to fight off the cold, while Bucky Barnes AKAThe Winter Soldier lied on his back a few feet away, his flesh arm behind his head as he stared fixedly through a missing board in the roof of the barn. He stared at the stars. Resisting the urge to stare at the woman who refused to be near him. They'd gotten in an argument earlier that week when she once again brought up returning to the States to reunite with Steve Rogers...AKA Captain America.

The man Bucky nearly killed in D.C..

Without HYDRA's interference, Charlotte had begun to remember a lot more from her life before. Before she was captured by HYDRA. The one where she wasn't a slave to a terrorist organization. Much of her life was still a pile of mixed up puzzle pieces, but of some things she was absolutely sure. Her name, her love for Bucky Barnes, that she used to be French, and that she had a brother, mother, and father. She's remembers much of her time with Dr. Erskine, but she still can't quite recall why or how she had met him.

Steve could help her assemble the rest. Along with the brooding man a few feet away. They could help her remember who she was, but she needed them both. Bucky, so far, had been no help at all. He was content to suffer in silence. He'd always snap at her whenever she tried to get him to talk. He'd once even threatened her with one of the knives he'd kept on him when she called him Bucky, a name he now despised if his reaction was anything to go by.

And in turn, he never addressed her by any of the names she so clearly missed. Not the one she was born with, nor the one he'd given her when he thought she resembled something heavenly. Certainly not the one her comrades called her during the war, nor the one he was only allowed to use. He wouldn't even call her by the name The Winter Soldier created. He called her nothing. Addressed her as nothing, just began speaking, assuming she'd listen. She did listen, but that's beside the point. Most of their lives with HYDRA they yearned for a name, something that belonged to them. A name to make them human. And yet, there she was, remembering all of them, even the bad, and he has called her not one since escaping their captors. She began to pay him the same respect, though it pained her to do so.

Sick of running across the globe, and sick of his silence, she finally snapped one morning and told him of her idea to go back to the States. To Steve. Their friend.

He told her no, saying if she didn't like it she could leave him and go on her own. He knew full well she wouldn't, which only infuriated her more.

Since then she had gifted him with the silent treatment. Even going as far as to not look him in the eye. It was finally getting to him, almost a full three days later. While she wasn't much more of a conversationalist than he was, she still filled the silence with either idle thoughts, or simple questions that involved their traveling. When she would mention something from the past, his jaw would clench and she cut the sentence short before going silent again.

He knew she wanted to talk- about them, their lives, their memories, their plan for the future.

What he couldn't say was that he hardly remembered a thing from _before_. Most of his memories that had returned were from his time _with_ HYDRA and he didn't feel the need to speak about his sins, often forgetting that she had many of her own as well.

He knew her name, but all he's ever known her as was, Fox. His little fox. He remembered snippets from when they were just Charlotte and Bucky, but only enough to confirm that he loved her once and yet, the emotion was still foreign to him. Still hard to recognize. He didn't know what it really meant to love someone.

When he looked at her, it hurt. He remembered how she looked before. He had flashes in his dreams of her long, curly waves of red hair. Smooth, pale skin. Her blinding smiles. He remembered that, and so it hurt to look at her now. Her hair had barely grown to cover her ears since D.C.. HYDRA had shaved it long ago, at the very beginning. They did it to strip her of her identity. To make her weak. To get her compliant. He remembered that, too, much to his dismay.

He had held her with his only arm in a cold, dark cell as she cried, clutching uselessly at her bald head. He had struggled with her when her nails dug in too deep and blood started to run down her face. He begged her to stop, to just look at him, but her eyes were shut tight. It was just days before he'd gotten his cybernetic arm. Before he was stripped of his own identity in more extreme measures. That time is still quite fuzzy to him, but he remembered holding her the best her could with just one arm.

 _"Just look at me, please." He pleaded in her ear softly, but she only continued to sob hysterically as she tried to find even a strand of hair to grasp on to. "Look at me, Sweetheart. It's okay." She wouldn't listen. "Dammit, I said look at me!"_

 _She gasped at his raised voice, jerking away from him in shock. Her eyes, wide and glowing green snapped up to his, watching as his chest heaved and he breathed through his nose, his mouth set in a firm line. She could see the regret pooling in his eyes for shouting at her._

 _He took a deep breath before carefully and softly telling her, "It's just hair, Charlotte. It'll grow back. Don't let them do this to you. Don't let them win."_

They never let her hair grow past her ears. And after years of torture, experiments, and shock treatments she began to forget why she always felt so morose when they forced her into a chair, ordered her to keep still, and proceeded to shave her head once more.

Then there was the scar on her face, the one that ran down the left side, through her eyebrow, her eye, and her cheek bone. One slash of a knife and her face would never be the same. Her eye had healed from the attack, due to her intense regenerative healing, but a thin scar remained on her skin as a reminder. A reminder of a time where neither of them had control of their own actions. A time where Bucky was forced to punish her. He couldn't remember what she had done, only that a blade was shoved into his hand as he was ordered to maim her for her disobedience. The catch was that she was allowed to fight back. It was an attempt to draw it out. To make him try harder to get the job done. To the surprise of everyone, she didn't even move. When he had charged at her, thinking she'd dodge or block at the last second, or even swing back... _she just didn't move._

And when her punishment ended with her screaming on the ground while the color red painted her face, The Winter Soldier had stood above her, his mouth agape and his body shaking. He never wanted to hurt her. And now a scar remained on her face. It was one of the first things he remembered whenever his memories would surface over the years. Every time it weighed heavily on his heart.

Sometimes, he wondered if she knew. If she knew he was the one that scarred her, but he was too afraid to ask. She either already knew, or he would be the one to remind her and he wasn't sure which was worse.

So looking at her hurt, but he couldn't resist, because she hadn't talked to him all damn day and she was over there shivering while he stared at some stupid stars. He wanted her closer, but didn't know how to ask. While he knew he loved her once, and was almost sure that he still did, he was still hesitant to show any affection. He wasn't sure how and he didn't want to embarrass himself.

But he wanted her closer, so he'd have to lure her in.

"I remember-" his voice cracked from disuse. It came out in a whisper, but her head tilted towards him in curiosity. Most sounds were so loud and grating to her ears, but she would never tire at hearing Bucky's voice. Without looking at her, he pointed up with a metal finger to where his eyes stayed. The stars. "I had seen a shooting star. It was during the war, I think. From...before. I was wearing some uniform, carrying a gun. I think I was waiting for something. Or someone. I don't know. But I looked up and I saw it. I remember that."

"Did you make a wish?" She asked him, and he forgot how quiet she could be when she tried so he nearly flinched at the close proximity of her voice.

Instead, he held back a triumphant smirk when he felt her settle beside him so that she could look up through the hole in the roof.

"I don't remember," he admitted hesitantly, worried she go back to her corner once she realized he had nothing left of the story to offer.

"I like the stars," she told him, much to his relief, and he finally turned his face so he could look at her.

He studied her profile and the small smile on her lips as she watched the far away lights in the sky.

It didn't hurt to look at her right then. In fact, he liked it very much. Bucky liked it even more when she met his eyes briefly before shyly looking away. He'd seen that look before.

"They're nice," he replied softly, nevermind the fact moments ago he had thought them stupid. Boring.

He wanted her to keep talking.

"I think I've always like them. The stars, I mean. I think I liked them even when I was a little girl."

He swallowed nervously before quietly asking, "Do...do you remember a lot? From when you were a little girl?"

She silently shook her head, and it hurt to look at her again. He saw the anguish there in her face. So being the coward he was, he looked away and back up at the stars.

"Do you?" She asked after minute or two of silence.

Without thinking, instinctively he replied, "Remember when I was a little girl? Can't say that I do. Sorry, Sweetheart."

Before he could apologize for his insensitivity or even realise what he had called her, a sudden, foreign noise erupted right beside him. A noise he hadn't heard in decades. One he didn't even realise he had missed.

Beside him, Charlotte, also known as The Red Vixen was giggling and The Winter Soldier was speechless and awestruck. She was beautiful. So damn beautiful like that, and it felt odd for him to look at her, but in a good way. A way he'd forgotten. The way his heart swelled with warmth, and a fluttering filled his belly.

Jesus Christ, he had butterflies. The Winter Soldier had butterflies while listening to her laugh. It was like the time they first met when she nearly ran into him and almost painted his uniform with hot dog toppings. He could hear her voice in his head from that night. Her sweet accented voice, the one she'd lost after a century away from home. He remembers seeing the blush on her cheeks and her gorgeous unique eyes. He felt butterflies back then, too, when he first learned her name. When he'd seen her smile.

With a start, Bucky realised he just remembered something important. Something that he had been struggling with ever since D.C..

The moment he fell in love with Charlotte.

He finally remembered.

A crash up on stage, he turned to see Steve's reaction and found her eyes instead...

He was so lost in the memory, he didn't realise she had stopped laughing and that she was lying on her side, facing him as he lied on his back with his face turned towards her. His eyes firmly on her, although lost. Her eyes, her mouth, her nose. Her sharp cheekbones, small pointed nose, and the short hair falling over her her eye. The tiny curve of her lips as she smiled at him in worry and amusement.

He could remember the blue dress she wore when he first laid eyes on her. The way her hair was pinned up in an elegant braided up-do. Soft tendrils of strawberry blonde hair framing her heart shaped face.

Before either of them could speak, something caught the corner of his eye and he looked up.

"Charlotte," he breathed in astonishment as he watched the shooting star fly across the night sky. He looked at her, to see her reaction to the phenomenon, but was surprised to find her eyes on him, with tears brimming. "Charlotte?" He turned on his side and reached with his flesh hand, gently settling it on her cheek, his thumb barely gliding over the scar that rested there. "What is it, Sweetheart?"

"You said my name."

He furrowed his brows in confusion, until he realized why that was such a big deal. As guilt flooded him, looking at her hurt again, but unlike before, he didn't look away.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Charlotte. I never…" he trailed off. _I never wanted to hurt you. You deserve better than me. Better than this. I don't know what to do._

He couldn't focus, because she moved closer to him and tucked her head under his chin and wound her arm around his middle, clutching the back of his sweater tightly. His arm came down to settle around her gently. His hand came to rest on the back of her head; his fingers buried in her short hair.

With tears in his eyes, he repeated, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

She had a feeling he was apologizing for a lot more than what was happening in that moment. With a heavy heart, she realised that Bucky remembered a lot more than he let on. That he was carrying a lot more fears than she. Maybe even a lot more demons. But she was there to try to chase them away, and she was never going to stop. As long as he was there to hold her like this to keep her warm on cold mornings.

Without having to ask, she knew he would always be there. Part of her knew that he would never leave her.

She closed her eyes and found herself relaxing against him. Charlotte felt Bucky do the same a few minutes later, once her silent tears had stopped. They held each other, breathing each other in as the sky began to brighten with the sun's approach.

She smelled the metal on him, days of musk, cotton, and a hint of mint. The cotton and mint is familiar. It's comforting.

"A few more months. Just give me a few more months, then we'll go find him. I just...I just can't face him yet. I don't know how-"

"Shh," she breathed, cutting off his rambling. "We'll go when you're ready. Not a moment before." She nuzzled her face into his neck. "It's okay."

He tucked his chin down to place a soft kiss on her head in gratitude and she fought to keep herself from bursting into tears at the sweet action.

The sun continued to rise, and she never moved from his arms. She even felt her eyelids become heavy with the need for sleep. Bucky felt it, too. A peace seemed to surround them in that moment and he wondered about the reasoning behind it. It felt so odd, almost unnatural. Like magic. But, as he closed his eyes and tightened his arm around Charlotte, he couldn't find the energy to care about it anymore. He just wanted to savour the moment. Where he held the woman he loved to keep her warm on a cold morning.

* * *

Much to the surprise of the other Avengers, Steve slept through the whole morning and came into the kitchen during lunch time looking well rested and, dare they say, a little more chipper than usual. Steve was known to be often serious and brooding, even times of relaxation.

When Bruce asked over his plate of food how the Captain slept, Steve replied, with a confused smile, "Good, actually, really good."

The other's all looked at one another, speculative though the relief was evident. They all knew how much Steve was struggling while his lost friends were still in the wind. It was nice to see him so relaxed. Whatever it was that made it happen, they welcomed it with open arms. Much to Steve's amusement they all began to guess on his sudden lighter mood. They went from having a woman over (Clint), to waking up to said woman singing the Star-Spangled Banner (Tony).

The billionaire almost spit out his drink all over Natasha when Steve laughed. Clint tried to check Steve's temperature, but Nat swatted his hand away, telling the others not to ruin Steve's good mood and to just accept it. Her glare kept Tony and Clint from arguing.

The day carried on as it usually did, though Steve remained his relaxed, content self.

Until they got another hit on the where the Scepter might be. Then the Avenger's were off.

* * *

 **Just a heads up, this story is going to be all over the place. (What's a timeline?)**

 **Some of it might not even completely match up to the movies, and some might even go a little AU. Maybe some plot holes. I don't know. I'm just having fun with it.**

 **It's like a bunch of One Shots but with my OC and how she fits into the MCU. And basically, how much does Bucky love her? Answer? A whole freakin' lot.**

 **Does Steve love her? Yes, but like a sister. Or something.**

 **Till next time!**


	5. The Chance Encounter

_**June 14th 1943**_

 _ **Charlotte meets two soldiers while fireworks light up the sky.**_

* * *

Up ahead, she could see the Army enlistment station between the many bodies around her. Skillfully, she walked through without brushing against any one of them. She'd already explored much of the exhibits offered at the Exposition at the request of her boss and mentor. She promised him she would have a look around if he wouldn't comment on her brooding behavior anymore. She was on her way back to him after being gone a little more than an hour, half-heartedly searching for something to buy her dear friend for dinner - another promise she'd made him.

It was the announcement of Mr. Howard Stark's showcasing of a new invention that halted her journey. While the man was egoistic and often liked to push her buttons, she knew he was a brilliant man with a talent in mechanical science that was ages ahead of their times. She admired his work and his impressive intelligence and often found herself observing his projects and asking many questions, much to his utter delight.

With some thought and a flick the her red tendrils framing her face, she sighed in resignation before pivoting in the opposite direction of her mentor and towards the growing audience that faced a rather large and flashy stage. At her abrupt turn, the navy blue skirt of her dress swished dramatically around her pale, smooth knees.

At first, the young woman wanted to remain at the back of the crowd, so she wouldn't feel at all anxious or trapped like she often did when surrounded, but her short height proved to be bothersome as she couldn't see past many of the tall gentlemen ahead of her. She sighed once again and squared her shoulders before carefully making her way closer to the stage. Tensing every time at the occasional bump and brush of another body against her.

Finally, she found a break in the crowd and an even better view beside a rather short, and skinny young man that looked to be her age at first glance, but when he turned his head to glance at the new body, she saw that he had to have been a few years older based on the hardness of his facial features and the wisdom and hollowness in his deep, blue-green eyes. Eyes that widened as big as dinner plates once he caught sight of who was next to him.

In the back of her mind she was able to pick up on his scent without really meaning to. He smelled like paper, graphite, a little like lemons, and a hint of something chemical. Some sort of medicine? It was an odd mixture of scents, but not entirely unpleasant.

When she forced herself to give him a polite smile, she had try not to roll her eyes at the sudden deep blush upon his cheeks and the rapid speeding of his heart. By the sound of it, it's was a weak organ, and she momentarily feared it would burst if he didn't compose himself soon.

She looked away from him then, and focussed her attention forward, tilting her head a bit so she could see between a man in a formal army uniform and the brunette to the left of him that had her arm linked with a blonde woman on her left side. The man in uniform had his hands settled into his pockets and just by seeing part of his profile, she could tell he was quite handsome - what with his dark, thick hair and his strong, masculine jaw line. She also noticed how the brunette woman stood very close to him, making it a bit harder to see between their heads as well as distinguish whose scent belonged to whom.

Another glance to her left and she found the shorter gentlemen seemed to be having the same dilemma as he struggled to watch the stage between the gap of the two women.

The redhead sighed ruefully as Stark entered the stage with his typical flare and arrogance, but she watched and listened raptly nonetheless.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the small man beside her offer the blonde woman in front of him some of his popcorn, but the blonde wearing red rejected his gesture by rudely turning away from him with a little huff. This was when she found out that the man beside her was actually a part of the trio in front of her. She didn't like that he was seemingly ignored and forgotten by them. It didn't sit well with her at all and for some reason she wanted to do something about it.

Completely out of character, she turned slightly towards the skinny fellow and shyly tapped his shoulder. His head snapped toward her, again with wide eyes as she pointed questioningly at his snack. He furrowed his brows for a moment, before just as shyly offering it over to her.

She took a pinch full of the snack with her gloved fingers and they both shared a hesitant smile before facing forward again. She was careful not to show her teeth, thinking the small fellow might have a heart attack and die right then and there if he caught a glimpse.

As the fancy, expensive, red car in the middle of the stage quite literally began to lift off of the ground, the redhead smiled fondly at the scientist and his accomplishment. She heard the tall soldier mutter a phrase of surprise and awe, before she found herself flinching at the sudden loud crash as the car abruptly ceased in flight and fell back down, smoking from the damage. To her sensitive ears, the crash nearly sounded as loud as an explosive would to average ears. The crowd around her gasped, before laughing and cheering for Howard Stark as he expertly wooed the crowd despite his public failure.

The soldier turned to smile at the small man beside her, in what she could only assume as amusement, before suddenly pausing to look straight at her. Like his friend, he too widened his blue eyes, but instead of blushing, he looked at the popcorn she still held in her gloved palm and the same snack in his friend's hand before surprising her with the warm and grateful smile that he sent her way, as if thanking her for simply standing there beside his small companion. The man turned forward again to talk to the girls beside him, and she made the decision to finally find a meal that she promised the doctor. She threw one last, close lipped smile at the blond man beside her, a silent thank you for sharing his food with her before she briskly walked away from the crowd and disappeared before he could even try to find the courage to say a word to her.

As the small man watched the beautiful woman with strange eyes disappear, he noticed a familiar sign just beyond her that he's encountered far too many times that the average American man should. With barely a glance at his soldier friend, he followed the redhead in the direction of what he knew to be an enlistment building. He wanted to try his luck; it was a fair after all.

* * *

After purchasing two hotdogs from a nearby stand, the young woman finally made her way back to the doctor to deliver his share. It wasn't until she started to walk up the short amount of steps that she caught a familiar scent and looked up to find Dr. Erskine, standing within the main hall, staring fixedly at a pair of gentlemen that looked to be in a intense discussion. She paused, noticing it to be the same pair of gentlemen she encountered while watching Stark's show. She tilted her head at the doctor when he caught sight of her standing in the background of the two men. The doctor reached up inconspicuously and scratched behind his ear. A clear sign. She rose her perfectly groomed eyebrows in surprise before following his request to listen along to the two men's private conversation. Though she stood a number of meters away, all she had to do was focus a little and she could hear them as if she were standing right beside them.

"-they're men lying down their lives, I've got no right to do any less than them." She was momentarily surprised by the smaller man's deep voice and even more so by the power behind it as he spoke. "That's what you don't understand," he told his soldier friend. "This isn't about _me_."

" _Right_." The soldier nodded with sarcasm. "Because you've got nothing to prove." She deflated at the sad, resigned tone to the soldier's voice, but startled at the sudden female shout to the right of her that called out to him.

"Hey Sarge! Are we going dancing?" She and her friend actually pouted at him and the redhead fought the urge to wrinkle her nose.

He turned towards them and gave the two girls a rather forced, yet still charming smile as he called back, "Why, yes we are!"

Figuring she looked odd standing on her own with a hotdog in each hand, she finally made her way up the steps, still listening to the end of the two friend's discussion. As the soldier began to walk away, he urged his friend to not doing anything stupid until he got back. The young woman couldn't help but smile at the blond one's witty reply and she was filled with a slight petty envy as she saw them embrace. She wished she could have a friendship like that. While she and Erskine were close, there was still a barrier between them that labeled their relationship as more of a student-mentor, than of the unbreakable friendship that the two men seemed to share.

She was watching her feet as she walked up the last of the steps, and even with her enhanced senses, she still got distracted sometimes, so it was only natural for her to yelp as a pair of large, strong hands grasped her by the shoulders before she could run straight into his chest. Freshly washed cotton and hints of mint hidden underneath a soft cologne invaded her senses. It made her dizzy.

"Whoa! Doll, you gotta be more careful or else we'd both be wearing those dogs right now." He smiled at her, showing that he wasn't mad at her and actually found the almost-incident quite humorous. Reasonably, she felt a bit flustered by him, as well as embarrassed, so she found it hard to find her voice. He really was a good looking specimen. "Hey, you're the gal the stood with Steve!" He smiled even wider and it was all teeth. Hypnotic. "You alright?" He asked after another few seconds of silence, a worried look appearing in his crystal blue eyes. She gulped before carefully speaking, making sure to enunciate her words as her English was still a working progress.

"Yes, monsieur, I am quite fine," was her soft reply and his smile grew again as he listened her genlte, accented voice. "I am sorry for almost...decorating you with my food. I was not watching where I was going."

"Wow," he breathed in awe, disregarding every word she had said, thus deepening the blush on her cheeks. "I don't think I've ever heard something so sweet. What is that? French? That is just beautiful." Usually such flirtations would annoy her, but she saw the genuinity on his face and reasoned that he was truly in awe of her. Or at least, her foreign voice. She was growing used to other's surprise and interest in her once she spoke. Though it was growing old, she couldn't fault them for being curious. Plus, his admiration felt good.

"Oui. Je vous remercie," she said, showing off just a little for the handsome man before her, feeling quite silly doing so, but she wanted him to continue smiling at her the way he was. _He's like a dream_ , she thought to herself, then immediately screamed at herself for such an idiotic, girly statement. "Thank you." She translated for him, with her own little smile, trying not to show the internal suffering she was going through from his hands still holding her shoulders.

"You're very welcome, Sweetheart." She scolded herself internally for almost swooning at the name and for almost sighing in disappointment when he removed his hands. "So, where you headed?"

She glanced behind her when she heard the same women from before call out to him, catching the irritated glares sent her way. The man in front of her held up a finger, asking for another moment of their patience while telling them that he was just catching up with an old friend.

Frowning slightly, she answered him by pointing with one of her hot dogs-that she had finally remembered she was still holding-at the the building behind him. She fought the blush from returning when he looked amusedly at the food in her gloved hands.

"Oh," he rubbed the back of his neck with his right palm before shoving both hands deep in his pockets. "You, uh, you meeting somebody?"

Unaware what he was really asking she nodded her head once and replied, "Oui."

"Of course you are," he mumbled looking a little downtrodden which confused to her no end. "Beautiful girl like you probably has tons of men falling at your feet, huh?" His voice was teasing, but his eyes were serious, curious even.

She widened her eyes at him in shock and understanding, while also gaping at him slightly like a fish.

"No, no!" She stammered. "This is my work, I am meeting mon patron!" She shook her head. "My _employer_ ," she corrected, "He is a doctor. I am his... how do you say?" She paused, searching for the right word. With English being her third language, she still struggled at times.

"Nurse?" He guessed, his eyes scanning her outfit skeptically. "You look a little dressed up to be a nurse, Doll."

"No, no. I am not a nurse. I help him with work, organizing, consulting, and I bring him food." She gestured to the food in her hands by shaking the hot dogs. He smiled again, and her knees went a little weak as understanding dawned on him. And was that relief she'd seen in his eyes?

She didn't understand what was happening to her. He was just a man and she was making a fool of herself.

"You're an assistant then?"

"Oui!" She laughed, nodding. She would have bopped herself on the forehead for having forgot the correct English term of her profession, but then she'd have mustard and ketchup splattered on her face.

Before either of them said another word, the two girls waiting for him appeared, sending a heated glare at the redhead before smiling innocently up at the ark haired soldier.

"Bucky, we're still going dancing, right? We better hurry before the night is over," the brunette whined at him and he forced another smile at her while nodding in agreement.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I was just catching up with…" He looked to the redheaded, French, beauty before him, and mentally kicked himself for not having asked her name yet.

"Charlotte," she supplied softly, only looking at him for a moment before looking to the two girls still frowning at her while Bucky- his name is Bucky?-wasn't looking. "I am Charlotte. Ravi de vous rencontrer." The two girls gaped at her, and Charlotte smirked a little before looking at the handsome man who was still staring at her, but now with a tenderness that surprised her, after just hearing her name. "I must be going. Have fun with your dancing." She remained polite. She started to walk away but not before nodding her head shyly once at the handsome soldier who couldn't take his eyes off of her. "Adieu, _Bucky_. Farewell." The syllables of his name had been a little sharp coming from her lips with her accent, but it sent a pleasent heat down his spine all the same.

"Goodbye, _Charlotte_."

Without turning back, although she really wanted to, she made her way into the building in search of her dear doctor, fighting a smile the whole way. She liked the way he nearly sighed her name. It had been breathy and full of wonder. It was amazing, knowing she had some affect on him as well. She felt less like a fool.

If didn't take long for her to find Dr. Erskine, as he was at the front desk, standing beside Bucky's small friend. _Steve. He called him Steve._ As she approached, both of the men looked at her. One with wide eyes and the other with an amused and knowing smile that she frowned at while practically shoving one of the hot dogs in his hand.

"Charlotte!" Dr. Erskine cooed fondly and a little teasingly. "I was wondering where you were," he drawled in his German accent. "I have just approved Mr. Rogers enlistment forms." He gestured to the small man, who seemed to be just as surprised by the doctors words as Charlotte was.

"Oh?" She rose her brow, and the doctor nodded his head. It was the answer to her silent question that she held in her eyes as he took a hefty bite of his hot dog. Steve Rogers would be a candidate, how interesting. She turned to Mr. Rogers and spoke a little hesitantly though did not lack genuinity. "Congratulations, _soldat_."

He rose his eyebrows at her voice, before giving her a small, but pleased smile. "Thank you, Ma'am."

She laughed softly as she stuck out her hand, "Charlotte Masson," she introduced herself formally. "I am younger than you, monsieur. Charlotte will do just fine." He returned her handshake gently, and she had to remind herself to mind her strength, for his hand felt so light and frail compared to hers.

"Then it's Steve."

* * *

 **How my babies all met. Please review/fav/comment or all of the above if you loved it.**


	6. A Freezing Hell

_**Super sad. Depressing, actually. Kind of romantic in a twisted way. (In my opinion) Sorry not sorry.**_

* * *

 _ **The Alps, 1944**_

 _ **Bucky - after the fall.**_

* * *

Weakly, his eyes blinked open.

He couldn't feel a thing.

Not the ice forming over his soaked clothes, not the the snow underneath him or any feeling left in his fingers and toes.

He didn't know he was missing half of a limb. Didn't know about his broken ribs, fractured skull, and the bone sticking up through the skin of his calf. Nor did he understand why it was so hard to keep his eyes open, but he hadn't really minded considering how _bright_ everything was. All the white hurt his eyes.

He couldn't get himself to move his head, it was as if he absolutely no control of his body; however, through his blurry eyes he'd seen that the sky was moving. His mind was so muddled that this fact did not confuse him nor did it stay very long in his thoughts. The sound similar to dragging across the ground passed the ringing in his ears. He heard a voice, something pretty. Something sweet. Something sad.

The voice was crying.

"I've got you. We're okay. I'll find the way back. I'll get us back."

The sky stopped moving for a moment; there was no more crying. No sound. Just silence. Wind in his ears, a dull ringing. Bucky's blue eyes drifted closed, but startled open a moment later when the voice spoke.

"I-I don't know where we are. I don't know." Soft crying once more. " _I don't know_."

Something tugged at the back of his collar -he could barely feel the pressure of it around his neck. There was no texture, no temperature; it was a light pressure pulling him along. The sky was moving again.

"I've got you, Bucky. I've got you."

Bucky. His name. Where has he heard that voice before?

His view changed as his head seemed to have rolled to the side after a harsher tug. There was a trail of red following him, he noticed. It looked like it was coming from his arm. The realization that it was blood faded quickly.

It's too bright, so his eyes closed.

* * *

"I'm getting cold Bucky."

He still couldn't feel anything. Not his purple fingers, nor his blue lips. Not the pain he should have been feeling from his various injuries. He was only numb.

His eyes opened at her voice. It pulled him out of the void behind his lids. The sky was orange. It wasn't moving anymore. There were trees above him now. There weren't trees before. The trees were covered in white.

Her voice had seemed closer, to the right of his body. Or is it the left? He tries to turn his head, but he can't. He can't move. He can't feel the way his own teeth chatter, nor the way his body shivers and convusles.

"I've never been so cold," the sweet, sad voice told him. "But I'm so cold, Bucky. It hurts."

He blinked. He knew that voice.

"You're dying."

She starts to sob.

"I'm so scared."

His eyes close. He wants to look at her, but he can't move. He can't keep his eyes open. He's too weak.

"Please. Oh God, please don't let him die."

* * *

 _He was walking up some stairs, they were unfamiliar, but he knew the feeling in his chest all too well. It was an eagerness, a thrill that's he'd only ever felt for one person. For one reason. Part of him, the practical part of him, knew he was dreaming. The rest of him didn't care._

I'll never smile again

Until I smile at you

 _Trying to be as quiet as possible so his lover wouldn't hear him over the music playing, he kept his eyes on the closed door at the end of the hallway, he smiled as he recognized the song, even though the song itself wasn't exactly a happy one. It still brought warmth to his chest, knowing she was on the other side listening to it. Probably dancing._

I'll never laugh again

What good would it do?

 _His feet stopped at the doorway, his left hand pausing on the doorknob. He leaned in closer, his ear nearly pressing against the door. She was singing softly on the other side. It was then that he realized the music had stopped, but she had kept singing. Her voice breathy and sweetly high pitched._

For tears would fill my eyes...my heart would realize

That our romance is through

 _The door opened, he doesn't remember turning the knob, but it opened. His breath caught at the view of her. She was only wearing a silk night dress, white as snow. Her long red hair tumbled down her back in messy waves and curls. She wore no stockings and her feet were bare. She was standing in front of a window. Outside it was snowing. It was bright. A halo of light surrounded her._

 _Vaguely he took note of the bedroom. The bed with a blue blanket and too many pillows, the vanity with jewelry and makeup on top, the dresser with one drawer open and filled with lacy things, the clothes in the closet - both men and women's. The pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of people he knew, but couldn't quite put names to faces._

 _She was swaying - no, she was dancing. Her movements were gentle, slow. She was graceful. When she turned, her eyes were closed._

 _The door closed behind him. Did he do that?_

 _Her eyes opened and landed right on him. For a moment, he had been startled. They weren't glowing. Why weren't they glowing?_

I'll never love again...I'm so in love with you

I'll never thrill again to somebody new

 _She smiled and held out her hands. Her smile was wide and he didn't see her two sharp little teeth like he normally did when she smiled at him._

 _His feet moved like they had a mind of their own and his hands engulfed hers. He brought them up to his mouth so he could kiss them. Her nails weren't long and white, nor were they sharp._

 _He took her in his arms and her head rested under his chin, her cheek over his heart. Over his dog tags. How long has he been shirtless?_

 _He danced with her. Slowly, gently; they were turning, his eyes closed as she kissed his chest. She kissed his heart. His nose nuzzled into her hair, his hands moved so they were holding her elbows. He pulled back._

Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again

...Until I smile at you

 _He can hear her voice, but her mouth wasn't moving. She was just smiling at him as her hand reached up so that the very tips of her fingers could trace his jaw, his cheeks, his nose. His eyes closed, but when he opened them again all he saw was darkness._

 _She was gone._

 _But he could still hear her voice._

 _She wasn't singing anymore_

* * *

Crying. She was crying. How long has she been crying? He struggled against the void. Her crying guides him.

"I'm sorry Bucky, I'm sorry. I tried to hold on, but my glove... Stupid, stupid, stupid. I don't know where we are. Bucky, please. Please forgive me."

The sky was black. Stars littered the vastness. There was a strange glow to the right of him. It flickered in and out of his view. It was definitely to the right. His eyes blinked less slowly. His mind seemed more alert this time. His head turned slightly.

With that small, miniscule movement, he was on fire.

"Bucky!"

He didn't realize that he was screaming until cold, cold hands grasped both sides of his face. Fingertips traced his jaw, his cheeks, his nose. They skimmed over his forehead and across his closed eyelids. He could feel the shivering of his body, but everything burned. He still couldn't move. He couldn't move and it wasn't because he was numb. It was because of the pain. It felt like fire.

"Shh, my love. Shh. We're okay. I've got you. Can you hear me? Bucky."

He knew that voice.

"Charlotte," he choked out through clenched teeth. "It hurts! Everything hurts!" He opened his eyes and there she was.

His angel looked like she had been dragged through hell.

Glowing green eyes danced all across his face, hands hovering all over him.

"I know, I know," tears fell from her eyes. There was dried blood all over the right side of her face. There were tear tracks, clean smears through the dirt and blood. "Do you remember what happened?" She was missing her coat, the long sleeves of her shirt were gone, torn. The right side of her body was covered in a large dark stain, but she seemed fine. There was a tear up the right side of her pants, the fabric doing nothing to protect her from the elements.

He tried to think over the pain. The burning. The cold. What was wrong with his arm? The fingers of his right had dug into the snow, but his left hand was still numb.

He turned his head to look, but Charlotte grabbed his face.

"Bucky, don't."

"Charlotte?"

The pain was too much. His eyes rolled back and his body went limp.

* * *

" _I'm going to ask her to marry me."_

 _Steve looked up at him from his sketchbook, confused. When Bucky didn't say another word, Steve's eyes widened and he dropped his pencil. A palm slapped over Bucky's forehead._

" _What the hell are ya' doing?" Bucky laughed, pushing Steve's hand away._

" _Checking your temperature Buck, making sure you're alright, 'cuz it sounded to me like you just said you were going to ask Charlie to marry you."_

 _Bucky smiled, all teeth. His smile was a little dopey._

" _I did say that, yeah."_

 _Slowly, Steve began to smile too, more so when the concerned look finally wore off. Bucky was jostled as Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders and shook him a bit. Steve let out a joyous laugh._

" _You really do love her."_

" _I really do, yeah. More than anything. She's it for me, Stevie."_

" _I'm happy for you, Buck. Really happy."_

 _Buck pushed him away, his face turning to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks. Blue eyes shifted nervously for a moment. He cleared his throat, schooling his features."You'll be my best man, won't you?"_

 _Steve visibly softened - his eyes, his smile, his shoulders. He swallowed thickly as his eyes glistened. Both men looked away from each other, coughing away their sappy feelings._

 _After a quiet moment, Steve said to Bucky,_ " _You gotta get her to say yes first." And he shrugged, all nonchalant-like, his smile teasing._

 _Bucky's face fell and he bit his bottom lip in worry. Steve watched on his confusion._

" _You think she won't say yes?"_

 _The blond began to laugh before he realized his friend was serious. Then he started to laugh some more. Some of the others scattered around camp cast them a curiously amused glance, but otherwise minded their own business._

" _Jesus, Buck. If you asked that girl to marry you right now, she'll find a way to marry you before the night is over. She loves you, Bucky, really loves you. She won't say no."_

 _They were silent for a few moments, and Steve eventually went back to his sketching to let Bucky mull that over._

 _Bucky chuckled softly._

" _Ma would skin me alive if I came home married."_ _The corner of Steve's lip turned up as he kept his eyes down._ " _Nah, I'll do it right. I want to see her wearing a pretty dress. I want her to walk down the aisle. She deserves that."_

" _Yeah." Bucky's best friend nodded. "She does, and so do you."_

" _I'll ask her when this damn war is over."_

 _"Ask who, what?"_

 _Speak of the angel, and she shall come._

* * *

The sky was orange again. Everything was bright once more. White all around him. He saw it falling from the sky. He couldn't feel anything. Couldn't move.

At least the burning was gone.

It was too quiet.

Where was his angel's voice?

He waited, but nothing happened.

He grew desperate. His breathing picked up and his adrenaline spiked.

"Charlotte," he croaked. His mouth and throat had been dry. "Charlotte?"

Feeling slowly came back to him. So did the cold and the burning, but he ignored it. Where was she?

" _Charlotte,_ " he spoke louder.

He heard movement to his right and willed his head to turn.

There she was.

The panic did not go away. It only grew.

Her lips were blue and her face was as white as the snow. Her eyes were closed. Ice formed on her eyelashes. She didn't move, he couldn't tell if she were breathing.

"Charlotte. Sweetheart."

He gritted his teeth and he reached with his right hand to touch her. Her missing coat fell away from his arm. It had been draped over him.

The back of his knuckles skimmed her cheek. His fingers were nearly black. How long have they been out in the cold?

His touched seemed to have woken her. Her eyes blinked open slowly. Her tongue came out to lick at her dry, cracked lips. He'd seen that her eyes were glazed before they closed again.

"Angel. Look at me? Please."

He remained focussed on her. He ignored the pain. He needed her to look at him.

Her eyes opened. Her gaze slowly focussed on his. They weren't glowing. He'd never seen them like that before. He didn't like it one bit.

Memories surfaced. _Steve. Zola. Train. Zip-line._

" _I had him on the ropes."_

" _I know you did."_

 _Doors slid open_ and then, " _Bucky watch out!"_

 _"Charlotte, what are you doing?!"_

 _"I've got you! I got him!"_

 _Her hand was gripping his, while the other held on tightly to a railing. They were hanging on to the moving train. Steve was reaching out for them. Her glove was slipping. Her nails were digging into his wrist. It hurt, but he wouldn't let go._

" _Hang on!"_

" _I' got him!"_

" _Charlotte! Your glove!"_

" _Bucky! No!"_

" _Bucky!"_

"I couldn't let you go." Her voice startled him and his focus shifted back to her once more.

She sounded weak, her words were strained. She looked tired. Her hand was holding his black fingers to her dirty face, but he couldn't feel it. They were too frozen.

"What did you do?" He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice. She didn't reply.

 _He was falling, he saw her hand reaching for him, but he was out of reach. Saw the horror on Steve's face._

 _His hand gripped her glove as his body continued to plummet. She was still on the train when he fell. She had been safe._

But she's with him now, looking like she had been dragged through hell.

His eyes closed, on the verge of tears. "Charlotte - _why?_ "

"Because, I love you," she whispered.

To her, it was simple. And maybe it would be for him too, if the roles were reserved, but her declaration only confirmed what he feared. He knew what she had done. It twisted him up inside. he loved her, but he didn't want _this_. For them both to freeze to death out there.

A tear fell from her eye, dripped over the bridge of her nose, and landed in the snow underneath her cheek.

"Why?" He begged for an answer, tears began leaking from his eyes. His body shook. He couldn't wrap his head around why she would do something so... _so crazy_.

Instead of giving him what he wanted, she made a promise that honestly just upset him more, "I won't leave you."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't know what else to say. Suddenly he was just so done. So tired.

Distantly, he could hear something. Something loud. An engine of a vehicle. After a few minutes the vehicle stopped near by. The engine shut off. People drew closer. They were close enough for him to hear their voices. Footsteps were crunching in the snow.

Steve?

"Bucky, there is someone coming." She sounded scared, he didn't think she should be.

A relieved smile curved his lips. "It's Steve, Sweetheart. He found us. We'll get you out of this cold. You'll be okay."

Her eyes closed and she breathed in deeply through her nose. Then her eyes snapped open. It was like her eyes came alive then. They started to glow their vibrant green once more. Bucky noticed the panic on her face, the fear. He didn't understand it.

"It's not Steve," she hissed, her eyes moved to glare past him. She began growling while struggling to pushed her weak body off the ground.

The footsteps stopped.

" **Что же мы имеем здесь?"**


	7. Three is a Crowd, But Four is a Party

**Second half of "Two is Company, Three is a Crowd"**

 **(Mostly dialogue...)**

* * *

 **Steve struggles to come to terms with Bucky and Charlotte's apparent survival over the last seventy years.**

 **Black Widow shares a little of what she knows about the Red Vixen.**

 **And Sam and Nat get a brief although shocking history lesson.**

 **They've also got allies in surprising places...like an armored truck for instance.**

* * *

"It was him. He looked right at me. He didn't even know me."

Sam shook his head, "How's that even possible? It was like seventy years ago."

"Zola," Steve stated in disgust. "Bucky's whole unit got captured in '43; Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..." Steve stopped himself before he could mention Charlotte, not sure if he should disclose that information as only a handful of people knew of her enhancements and her involvement in the war.

Plus, he wasn't really sure about what he saw, his head was still swimming with the prospect of Bucky being alive. He wouldn't be sure how to feel if she was, too. But it was starting to all make sense.

"None of that's your fault Steve," Natasha assured him, her voice strained as blood continued to seep through her jacket.

"Even when I had nothing, I still had Bucky…" None of them know what to say to that.

"Who was the woman?" Sam asked, breaking the silence as he glanced between Steve's stoic expression and Natasha's pained one as she pressed onto the bullet wound under her collar bone.

Natasha sighed. Steve's eyes shifted to her, curious. Hopeful. Scared.

"The Red Vixen. Or, her more commonly used alias, _Vixen_. She was the most elite spy in the KGB in the 80's and 90's, skillful in all things espionage; cultural adaptation, keen observational skills, interpersonal skills, self-reliance. She's also known for her formidable hand-to-hand combat, as you may have seen." She gave Steve a pointed look. "She's fast. Strong. Not a big fan of guns, but we all have our gimmicks. She just happens to like using her hands."

Sam scoffed, voice disbelieving, "I threw her off the bridge. How good can she be?"

"She let you," Natasha countered, rolling her eyes slightly. "What better way to get out of a fight than to play dead?"

Steve nodded, his face thoughtful as he added, "She didn't want to waste time fighting you, Sam."

Sam nearly took offensive, but Natasha cut him off before he could speak.

"You weren't a target, Steve and I were. They hardly even focussed on you. They probably saw you as collateral damage. You should feel lucky. I've seen Vixen fight. I've seen her kill. Not as bloody as the Winter Soldier, but no less lethal."

"How do you know about her?" Steve finally asked, glancing at the two guards watching and listening to their conversation. Their faces were hidden by helmets, but he could feel their eyes on them. He didn't care, he needed answers. He has to know if he's right.

Natasha thought for a moment, wondering the best way to answer and how much information she should give. She settled with, "I saw her move on you, Rogers. She tried to take you out on your shoulders. Remind you of anybody?"

Sam and Steve raised their brows, their faces skeptical.

"You trained her?" Steve's tone was accusing, just a little.

She nearly laughed, but thought better of it. "Try the other way around."

Steve and Sam sat back, confused. Shocked.

"How old is she?" Steve spoke, his tone soft. Vulnerable. It is really her? Did he fail them both?

"I've never seen her whole face. I've only heard her voice-" for just a moment, Nat could hear it; the soft whisper, the gentle touch in her hair, **'** **ya mogu pomoch' tebe** **'.**

"- but I don't know her exact age. If I had to guess based on the last time I saw her, I'd say she was in her twenties."

"How long ago was that?"

She didn't want to answer Sam's question, as it would involve involuntary information on herself, but she reasoned that this was somewhat necessary, no matter how much she disliked it.

"Almost fifteen years."

Before either man could ask, she spoke again, hoping to keep the topic on the mysterious woman and off herself and her past.

"I have seen her eyes-," Steve's head snapped to Natasha, his heart constricting. There would only be one reason Nat would feel it were necessary to mention eyes.

"-they glow," the two said simultaneously. Natasha looked at Steve, her brows furrowed, eyes stunned.

"You saw them? She had her goggles on, didn't she?"

Steve shook his head. His heart was breaking, guilt blooming. "I knew her. I knew both of them, but I didn't want to believe it was them. When I saw her hands, I knew there was something about her that was familiar. Then I saw his face. I just don't know how this happened."

Sam narrowed his eyes, carefully asking, "How what happened?"

"How two of my closest friends ended up in the hands of HYDRA."

"I'm not sure I'm following Cap. _Friends?_ If those were friends, I don't want to know what you do with your enemies." Steve shot Sam a withering look.

"Her name is Charlotte. I knew Buck since we were kids, but I met her just before I joined the war." He paused, then said, "Ever heard of Charlie Fox?"

Sam sat up slightly, interested.

"One of the Howling Commandos," Sam started with a small smile, "French guy, right? He was your medic. Saved Gabe Jones' life by digging a bullet out of his stomach." Natasha raised her brows at Sam's knowledge to which he made a face back at her. "What? I was a fan. Gabe Jones is every black kid's hero after learning about World War II. Only black man in the Howling Commandos. Charlie Fox was the only reason Jones even saw the end of the war. Jones named his first son after that man."

"How sweet," Nat remarked sarcastically, wincing slightly at the pain in her shoulder as she shifted to look at him better with a smirk.

"Woman," Steve corrected, a small amused smile on his lips as he looked at Sam. At the two confused looks, Steve went on to say, "Charlie Fox was a woman. Also known as Charlotte Jeanne Mason, first and only woman in the Howling Commandos. Student, head assistant, and adopted daughter to one Dr. Abraham Erskine. She helped create the Super-Soldier Serum." Steve's smile fell, his eyes falling to his cuffed hands. " Also, fiance of Bucky Barnes."

"That's not in the history books," Natasha smiled wryly, while Sam gaped at Steve, speechless.

"No, it's not," Steve agreed with a small chuckle. "Only time a woman was allowed in the war is if they were wearing white hats with the red cross on it. Colonel Phillips didn't want to deal with the controversy having a woman holding a gun would bring, so Howard Stark came up with a plan. Charlotte Jeanne Mason ceased to exist and Charlie Fox was born."

"So...she pulled a Mulan," Sam said once he found his voice. Steve's gave him a blank face.

"A what?"

Natasha went on to explain in an exasperated manner, "It's a child's cartoon movie about a young chinese woman taking the place of her elderly and crippled father in the war. She cut her hair, tapered her breast, and changed her name. She even got a little pet dragon."

Hesitantly, and a little thrown off, Steve answered with, "Charlie didn't have a pet dragon and she didn't join the war so she could take her father's place. She also didn't cut her hair, she just hid it all under a hat. But, essentially, yes, she pulled a...Mulan?" Sam nodded, also a little thrown off by Nat's knowledge about a children's movie.

"What? I watch movies," Nat defended half-heartedly. "So, why join the war?"

"Because she could," Steve shrugged one shoulder. "Charlie had the power to do something greater than what was expected of her. She didn't want to just sit back and watch as countless people died at the hands of HYDRA. She hated them."

"You said she helped create the Serum…" There was a question in Nat's voice as well as a hint of annoyance. She didn't like not knowing things, it unsettled her.

All she could think about was how none of this information was in Steve's files. Of course, there was a file on Charlie Fox, a blurry picture to put a face to the name, a made up backstory and all Charlie's good deeds during the war. She read it when Steve came out of the ice, needing to be well versed on all things Captain America. None of the files mentioned that Charlie was actually a woman, nor did it mention that she supposedly helped create the famous Super Soldier Serum. There was nothing on a Charlotte Mason. All she knew anything about was the Red Vixen and the Winter Soldier; she knew they were nothing like the people Steve cared for in the 40's.

Steve glanced at the two guards, his eyes suspicious.

Not seeing the point in keeping secrets anymore, he decided to just come out with it. If it came down to it, he'd do what needed to be done to make sure this secret is kept.

"She _was_ the Serum."

"Come again?" Sam was the first to speak.

"She was born with the enhancements. She used to call them abnormalities. A mutation. She didn't really speak much about it so I don't know everything. All I know is that she didn't like what she had. Super strength, agility, speed...night vision, high sense of smell and hearing. The only things that told anyone that she was different were her claws and teeth. And her eyes." He gave Natasha a look. "She also had subtle animalistic behavior. Growling, snapping her teeth, things like that. Not many people got close enough to see that though. Erskine created the Serum using her DNA. When Erskine was killed, she refused to give up any more of her blood. She didn't trust anyone to do what was right with it. Only she knows how to fully recreate the Serum and she burned all of Erskine's notes to keep it a secret."

"Explains why no one got it right in the last seventy years," Natasha muttered, "they were missing the key ingredient."

Sam leaned forward and teasingly he quipped, "Captain America is some watered down version of a woman in the 40s?"

Steve took no offense. It had been an honor being compared to Charlotte Mason. He wasn't so sure if he felt the same way, seeing what she had become. Regardless, he still cared for her. Had some semblance of hope. A sliver of excitement knowing his friends didn't die.

"She's the reason I am the way that I am. If it weren't for her, I'd be dead. It's because of what she is that made it possible for Bucky and her to survive. Possible for all three of us to survive."

"Charlie Fox died in 1944," Natasha stated, her tone curious as she watched for Steve's reaction, "Nothing ever says how it happened."

Steve stared down at his hands, his jaw clenching.

"She fell off the train. Same as Bucky."

Natasha stared at Steve, taking note on how he wouldn't look Sam or her in the eyes. He was hiding something; she knew that there was more to Charlotte's supposed death tham he was letting on. Before she could ask, the pain in her shoulder became too much and she leaned her head back as her eyes squeezed shut.

Sam looked at the guards, urgently saying, "We need to get a doctor in here, if we don't put pressure on that wound she's going to bleed out in this truck."

The guard closet to Sam raised their tasered batton, causing him to snap his mouth shut and lean away.

Suddenly, the guard flipped the batton in their hand and harshly jabbed it into the other guard, electrocuting him before shifting their body to kick the other in the head. The guard fell unconscious between Steve and Sam's feet.

Sam, Steve, and Natasha all watched cautiously as the remaining guard removed their helmet to show them their face.

The person sighed in relief as the helmet came off, "That thing was squeezing my brain." Maria Hill looked between them all before finally settling on Steve, asking him nonchalantly while nodding her head towards Sam, "So, who's this guy?"

* * *

 **I like the way I'm writing this story, solely because it's like putting a puzzle together - one piece at a time and not completely in order. Every time I update, we're learning something new about Charlotte's story and it's not always from her side. It's fun to write, even if I suck at it.**


	8. Two is Company, Three is a Crowd

**_2014_**

 ** _Steve, Natasha, and Sam have just aquired Jasper Sitwell and learned of HYDRA's plans to use Project Insight to kill millions of people. The are on their way to try and stop it when they're ambushed by two dark and mysterious individuals._**

 ** _Steve gets the shock of a lifetime._**

* * *

"HYDRA doesn't like leaks."

"Why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam glanced at the man sitting in the back seat, one hand firmly on the steering wheel as he drove as fast as he could without drawing unnecessary attention to him and his passengers.

Natasha leaned over so she could look at Steve, "Insight is launching in sixteen hours. We're cutting it a little bit close here."

"I know," Steve nodded, "We'll use him to bypass the DNA scan and access the Helicarriers directly."

Sitwell's eyes widened beneath his glasses and he sat forward to say, "What?! Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea and-" his words are cut off by an unsuspected thump on the roof of the car.

All four passengers looked up in confusion just as a force smashed through Sitwell's window and grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit jacket. With a terrified scream and an odd whirring mechanical sound, the man was expelled from the car and straight into the opposite side of traffic. A blare of a semi truck's horn cut Sitwell's scream off.

Just like that they were one passenger short.

Natasha was the only one to notice the shining silver of a metal arm before bullets began to tear through the roof. Quickly, she maneuvered herself to the front of the car and into Steve's lap while simultaneously pushing Sam's head over just before a bullet embedded into his headrest behind him.

Steve shifted the gear so that the car slammed in a sudden halt. Black and silver flew across the windshield and nearly thirty feet ahead of them. The grating of metal against concrete sounded as the man managed to roll his body and skid to a stop with silver digits digging into the road for stability.

His face was completely covered by a black muzzle and dark goggles. Dark hair hung down to his shoulders and covered the pale skin of his forehead. Natasha just managed to raise her firearm before an armoured Jeep crashed into Sam's car from behind, sending them forward and straight to the ominous figure waiting for them ahead. Natasha's gun slipped from her grip and fell between Steve's feet and she blindly felt around for the weapon as the Winter Soldier suddenly jumped and twisted his body in the air almost gracefully before landing heavily on his stomach on top of their roof once more. The forced of his body dented the roof and his feet had shattered the rear windows.

As Sam frantically tried to take control of his own vehicle a fleeting glance behind him left him even more startled as he spotted an all black hooded being perched on top of the enemy Jeep behind them.

He watched the hooded figure begin to stand, almost as easily as if they were on still ground, but before he could warn his friend's of the other threat, a silver hand crashed through his windshield right in front of his face and tore the steering wheel right off.

"Shit!"

Natasha, with her gun finally in hand, fired haphazardly through the roof, hoping to get a lucky shot in, but the man leaped from their car and onto his allies behind him. Natasha watched as the mysterious hooded figure curled an arm around the Winter Soldier's chest, almost like they were protecting him by keeping his body steady on the hood of the Jeep before they rammed into the rear of Sam's car one last time, sending the three swerving and skidding across the road.

 _I know who that is_ , was Natasha's immediate stunned thought followed by an even heavier sense of foreboding that rivaled the one brought on by the Winter Soldier.

"Hang on!" Steve yelled to his friends as he did his best to bring them closer to him right before shoving his strong shoulder into the car door, breaking them free from the car just as it begun to flip. The three fell, then proceeded to slide together further down the road on the door, though Sam lost his grip and tumbled on his own to a stop further from them than he liked; his forearms and elbows stung from the scraping of his flesh on the gravel.

The Jeep screeched to a stop and the two black figures hopped down just as four burly military esque men exited the vehicle with various weapons in their grips.

While Sam groaned and attempted to catch his breath, he couldn't help but watch as the hooded one of the two was handed a large looking gun-like weapon by one of the military men that stepped out of the Jeep. The figure loaded and cocked the weapon before handing it over the Winter Soldier. It was then that Sam noticed the size difference between them as they stood less than a foot apart. The top of the hooded figure's head barely reached the chin of their partner and Sam couldn't help thinking there was something more about them that he couldn't quite yet grasp.

The Winter Soldier aimed the odd looking gun and aimed it right at Steve and Natasha as they'd just begun to stand. Steve was quick to push Natasha away from him and he held his shield up just in time before an explosive sent him flying back and off the bridge, his body twisting and his shield flying out of his grasp. Sam didn't see where Cap went, but from the sounds of chaos down below, he must have made quite the landing.

Once Steve was out of sight, the four men from the Jeep aimed their weapons and Sam barely managed to take cover before a rain of bullets sprayed all around him. He caught a glimpse of Natasha's red hair from the corner of his eyes just as he ducked down behind an abandoned car. The men with their two obvious leaders continued to advance on them, which in turn meant Sam had to keep moving if he wanted to stay alive. When he dove behind another car, he chanced a look at the enemy and furrowed his brows at the way the hooded figure stay back and did not shoot at him nor did the person shoot at Natasha. They only watched. The Winter Soldier however stood ahead of them all and aimed what Sam labeled as some kind of sleek grenade launcher at Natasha. He knew she could handle herself, so he focussed on the four men backing up the freak with the silver arm. If he could somehow take care of them, Steve, Natasha, and him would have much better odds. Three against two sounded much better than three against six.

When Natasha was forced off the bridge much like Steve was, Sam's stomach leapt into his throat, but convinced himself it would take a hell of a lot more than a bomb to take her down. Sam decided to lay low for the time being, as the small calvary didn't seem too concerned about him at the moment while they gathered at the ledge of the bridge to presumably search for their real targets. Sam's brows about shot up to his hairline when a bullet seemed to crack the left lense of the goggles the hooded figure wore and the Winter Soldier was quick to snatch them away from the ledge and shove them down so that they were hidden from what Sam knew to be Natasha's sights. Steve didn't use guns. It was the way the Winter Soldier's metal hand gently pulled the goggle's away from the other's eyes that had Sam adding another piece of the mysterious murder duo's puzzle.

The Winter Soldier wasn't all machine. And based off the feminine shape of their brows that Sam saw as the hood slipped up slightly, their size made all the more sense. The hooded person was a woman. A woman that the Winter Soldier cared deep enough for that he would place his own goggles on her before angrily shooting over the edge, gunning for the person that nearly hurt his female partner.

The Winter Soldier said something in Russian. It sounded like an order of some kind before he leaped down to the street below. The four other men followed suit with their grapples and lines while the female stayed up top. Sam could see all the weapons she was equipped with and wondered why she wasn't joining in the fight.

When Sam heard the crackle of bullets, he knew he had to make his move. It was when the female raised up the gun in her hands that he surged forward with a knife he'd stashed in his boot. The woman seemed to have heard him coming and easily dodged the kick Sam sent to the back of her knee, then proceeded to spin away from the slash of his knife, though it did cut through the gun strap, making it easier to take it from her. She aimed her weapon at him, but he quickly landed a kick to her stomach that sent her a few steps back, then with all his strength, he rushed forward and shoved her over the edge of the bridge. A loud crashed sounded from down below and Sam looked over to see the woman lying on top of a car, the roof caved in and glass shattered all around her unmoving body.

Sam made eye contact with Steve after picking up her discarded weapon and using it to take out one of the men shooting at Steve. Sam told him to go on ahead, he had things handled. Steve nodded and took off in the direction where the Winter Soldier was causing chaos. Sam carefully shot the last of the men before deciding to make way to his destroyed car to grab his wings. With one fleeting glance at the spot the woman fell, Sam's breath caught in his lungs as he took in the missing body.

"Dammit," Sam hissed before sprinting off to get his wings.

* * *

Steve had just managed to divert the Winter Soldier's attention away from Natasha, the metal of his fist connecting with his shield, creating a loud, gong-like sound that had Steve's ears ringing for a few seconds.

From that moment on, it was a lethal dance. Two men with strengths and skills unparalleled by average humans. Blows were received, traded, blocked. But at the fight went on, more and more of the Winter Soldier's weapons became scarce.

No matter, his hands have killed many in just mere seconds.

It was when his Vixen showed that he knew it was only a matter of time until the man with the shield would be dead. All he would need is a split second of his opponent's attention diverted. She appeared, silent and swift like always. Creeping up without a sound, fast as a whip. His target had no idea another enemy lurked near by, waiting for the perfect moment to strike; however, the moment she showed, the Soldier felt her there, watching him. He always knew when she was close by. Felt her presence no matter if his attention is otherwise occupied. It's because she let him.

After throwing his target by the neck over the hood of the car, he felt his Vixen leap over him, on to the hood of the car before lunging after the target on the ground, the bottom of her steel toed boot aiming for the man's face. For just a moment, the Soldier paused. He wanted to see her in action. It always shot a thrill through him when he got to see her fight.

When the target stood with his Vixen on enemy shoulders, thighs wrapped tightly around his neck, elbows hammering down onto his head, he couldn't help the small quirk of his lips behind his mask as he watched. He pitied any man that went against her. She was ruthless. The target's face began to turn a dark shade of red as he tried to pry her off of him. Only when he slammed his back into the same van his shield was embedded into did he succeed. Her grip loosened and he was able to grab her by her arm and flip her off of him, her body landing harshly on the road behind them.

The Soldier's anger spiked, especially when the target pried his round shield from the van and attempted to slam it down on her. She rolled away and on to her feet, dodging the man's shield whenever it came toward her. Each time she'd spin or duck away from his attack, she'd reward the target with a swift punch or kick in return. She never missed.

The shield came from the left, she flipped back, kicking the target in the chin. The shield came up, she spun away before delivering her elbow into his chest. He threw the shield; red, silver, and blue spinning towards her like a sharp, deadly frisbee. She threw her hands forward, hands latching on to the bothersome object. Her feet slid a few feet back, hands throbbing from the catch, but she ignored the pain and proceeded to drop the shield at her own feet. She took pleasure in the way her target's mouth dropped at her strength. As she began to charge at him, the blond tensed his body and shifted his feet into a more formidable fighting stance. For just a moment, she praised him.

He certainly was brave...or stupid. She wasn't sure which one.

* * *

Steve was overwhelmed. That in itself was a bruise to his ego. The two were skilled, he'd give them that, but what scared him the most was that they were also enhanced. He'd seen the smaller one fall from the bridge. Saw their body plummet onto the roof of the car, the metal curling around them, saw the way their head hit the surface. No normal human would survive something like that and judging by their appearance, they didn't even bleed.

Natasha had shared her knowledge about the man with the metal arm. The man pacing around their fight, like he was waiting for his partner to tap him in. He was an assassin credited with over two dozen kills over the last fifty years. Natasha called him the Winter Soldier.

But what about the smaller one? Their whole body was covered head to toe in black. Black hood, thick, black leather suit, black tinted goggles, black turtleneck that covered their mouth and nose. Who were they?

It hadn't been until he felt a stinging over his chest that he noticed the white almond shaped claws, dipped in his blood.

 _Claws?_

 _Why does that seem so familiar?_

Before he could think more about it, his head snapped back from the punch she gave him. He tasted the blood on his tongue and briefly fought to remember the last time he was hit by a fist hard enough to taste his own blood. _Was it before the Serum?_

The second she stepped away from him, he knew that was some kind of sign. As a metal arm came around and curled around his neck, he scolded himself for not keeping the Winter Soldier in his sights. He started to struggled to breathe, his heart hammering in his chest as the other hand came around his grasp his chin.

 _Jesus Christ, he's going to break my neck._

Steve's hand went up, searching, grasping for anything. His fingers hit a hard surface and latched on, pulling quickly and he furrowed his brows at the way the hooded one tensed up when Steve threw the mask on the ground before curling his hand around the back of the other man's neck. He quickly dropped to a knee and flipped the man over his shoulder, much like how he hand done to the other one before. Steve greedily gulped in much needed oxygen as the pressure around his neck disappeared.

The Soldier rolled, landing on his feet. He stood beside his partner; his back was to Steve. When he turned around, Steve lost his breath all over again. It was like his lungs were being squeezed from the inside. Everything tilted around him. Sounds of screaming and sirens ceased to reach him. His heart beat in his chest like a jackhammer.

He could only choke out one word.

" _Bucky?"_

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

Eyes shifted momentarily; his eyes were lost. Then his expression hardened and his eyes were stone cold as he raised the gun his partner had slipped into his hand.

Suddenly a force hit them from behind. Sam had flown in, his feet kicking the smaller one's back which forced her to collide with the Soldier. Both were disoriented for a moment, although they recovered quickly. This time, it was the smaller one who held the gun, aiming at Sam's stumbling form as he landed, but before the trigger could be pulled, the Soldier pulled her away just before an explosive flew past Steve's head and right at the pair.

Once the smoke cleared, they were gone.

Natasha dropped the grenade launcher and slouched against a car. Steve continued to watch the spot where the two assassins disappeared. He didn't struggle when Brock Rumlow forced him on the ground. Didn't speak as a barrel of a gun was aimed right at his skull.

It wasn't until Sam asked a question in the back of the armoured van they were held prisoner in, two armed guards watching their every move. Listening to their every word.

Steve couldn't get his face out of his mind. He was trying to put the pieces together.

 _Could it really be them?_

* * *

 **Honestly, I love Winter Vixen. Power Couple.**

 **There's a part two to this chapter, I just don't know if I want to post it after this one or later down the line. We shall see.**

 **Thanks to Shesal for the review, you made my week.**


	9. The Introduction of Charlie Fox

**In 1943, Charlotte Mason is determined to join the Howling Commandos, but the world wasn't ready for a woman to join the Army. So a man she will become.**

* * *

After Steve and Charlotte had bravely and successfully saved the remains of the 107th, it was decided to gather up a team of strong individuals to fight alongside Captain America. A team skilled enough to take on HYDRA while the rest of the Allied-Forces continued to focus on the Nazi's.

No one was surprised that Charlotte would want to join. It caused many arguments with Colonel Phillips revolving her gender and more importantly her secret enhancements the government had no idea existed; not to mention her former affiliation with HYDRA when she was their prisoner lab rat. An agent in the SRR was one thing, but a woman in the Army? It'd cause too much controversy, he had said. That and it was against the law. There was a reason woman stayed behind at home while men were sent overseas.

Howard Stark surprised everyone by offering up a solution that was admittedly simple and yet incredibly brilliant.

Give her a new name. A new look.

Hide her hair in a hat, tape down her breasts, and give her a soldier's uniform and suddenly she was a new woman. Well...a new man. She became Charlie Fox; former member of the French Resistance with fellow Frenchman Jacques Dernier. Just another man in the 107th rescued by Captain America. It was a sound plan, the only concern left was what to do in the presence of cameras. Howard shrugged and told her to try to avoid them. Crisis averted. Phillips was satisfied and Charlotte was a dubbed a soldier. Much to everyone's amusement, she had been very excited and proceeded to cling on to Howard in gratitude while squealing in delight.

It was while she was being fitted that Bucky had time to voice his concerns about Charlotte joining their band of merry men. He went on and on about how it was too dangerous for her to be out there in the war zone. How he didn't want to see her get hurt. Steve listened on in amusement at his friend's obvious infatuation, waiting patiently for Bucky to finish his spiel about protecting women and how they're essential for the future generations.

"Buck, I don't know if you've noticed, but Charlotte can take care of herself just fine. She's strong. Really. I saw her lift what must've been a hundred pounds just yesterday while in the lab with Howard. With one hand! And even if she did get hurt, she heals really fast. Faster than me even. I don't even think I've seen a bruise on her since Austria and she was just as active in the fight as I was. Besides, she's got a whole team to watch her back."

"Is she bulletproof?"

"Well, no, but neither are we, Buck." Bucky blinks once before throwing his hands up and turning away from a concerned Steve.

Bucky grumbled as he stomped away, marching right passed a disguised Charlotte. For a moment she watched him as he disappeared in his tent, a confused frown on her lips at how upset he seemed, but Steve's surprised exclamation drew her eyes away.

"Charlotte! Is that you?"

Straightening her back and puffing out her flattened chest, her eyes found Steve as he headed right for her and in her best deep and manly voice she had practised in front of Howard, she replied with, "Oui, Capitaine, c'est moi, Charlie Fox. Ici pour le devoir, monsieur," while giving him a swift and rigid salute.

Steve being the sweetheart that he is and having been practicing some French of his own, smiled and said, "À l'aise, soldat."

"So?" She gave him a little spin, "What do you think, Steven? I am a nice man, no?" She secrued her cap on her head and straighten her deep brown coat. Her ensemble also included a pair of matching brown army trousers and a sturdy pair of boots. Her long, wavy hair hidden securely under her cap.

"That's a neat ensemble, doll, but sorry to say, you still look like Charlotte to me," Steve answered apologetically. Her face was just so...pretty for a lack of another word. Too feminine.

For a moment Charlotte slumped, her lips pouting before she suddenly exclaimed, with one petite finger raised, "Oh! Un moment! J'avais oublié la partie cruciale de mon déguisement!"

She dug deep into her pockets and pulled out a pair of goggles, but before she put them on, she pulled the dark blue scarf around her neck up to cover half of her face careful not to knock her hat, she secured the goggles over her eyes before holding her arms up to Steve as if saying, 'what about now?'

He squinted her eyes at her, mouth pursed. He even walked around her body and she stood at attention. Finally, as he paused in front of her, a slow smile formed on his lips.

"Let me hear the voice again," Steve requested. He stood straighter and ordered his his Captain America voice, "What is your name, Soldier?"

With her Charlie Fox voice, she put her gloved hand to her heart and said, "Capitaine Rogers, je suis le soldat Charlie Fox. Médecin de suis prêt pour le devoir, monsieur."

"Welcome to the team, Fox. Glad to have you," Steve told her in full sincerity with a fond look in his eyes.

With a little excited squeal, she spun on her heel and marched off. Steve watched on as she happened to run into Demier and Jones coming out of their tent and he laughed a little at Demier's excitement as he pointed out their similar hats. Jones had complimented her on her voice.

While she was small, and her face was completely hidden, Steve believed that she really could pass as being a man. Besides, the little guy might be exactly what they need.

* * *

Bucky was the last to see her in her getup, having sulked alone in his tent until dinner time. He'd sat right across from her at the table, halfheartedly listening to the conversations around him while his eyes stayed down. It wasn't until he felt a gentle kick at his shin that he looked up and found himself staring at the glowing greens eyes of Charlie Fox.

"Charlotte?" He sputtered, stunned while the men around him laughed.

"No, it's Charlie, monsieur, you must have me confused with someone else," she said to him in her new voice, mirth glinting in her eyes.

Her teeth worried her bottom lip when he didn't instantly reply.

He took a moment to observe her attire, the smidge of dirt on her face, the unlady-like way she was sitting. How relaxed she seemed amongst them. She looked happy. She looked like she belonged. Belonged with them. As much as he didn't like the thought of her in danger, he couldn't deny that she was right where she was meant to be. It didn't hurt that she'd constantly be near either. He'd be able to see her every day.

With a broad smile, Bucky finally decided on what to say.

"It's nice to meet you, Charlie. I'm Bucky." He held out his hand over the table for her to shake, and she did so with her smaller hand, hidden in a bulky glove, much different from the dainty things she wore before.

Her strong grip shocked him, despite having seen displays of her strength before, it still surprised him when she gripped his hand like a man would and shook it accordingly.

His smile grew mischievous.

"Y'know, I swear I'd seen a dame that looked just like you walking around yesterday. Pretty as a picture, too. Man, what I would give just to get a smile outta her. Charlie, do you got a sister I don't know about?"

With a roll of her eyes as her comrades around her laughed, her eyes settled on Bucky just as he decided to send a wink her way.

She pulled up her scarf in hopes of hiding her blush, but it only made the men around her laugh more.

 _This man will be the death of me._

* * *

 ** _"_ Oui, Capitaine, c'est moi, Charlie Fox. Ici pour le devoir, monsieur." -Charlotte saying, "Yes, Captain, it's me, Charlie Fox. Ready for duty, sir.**

 **Steve to Charlotte, "At ease, soldier."**

 **Oh! Un moment! J'avais oublié la partie cruciale de mon déguisement!" -Charlotte saying to Steve, "Oh! One moment. I'd forgotten the crucial part of my disguise."**

* * *

Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time and that this chapter is so darn short! Hopefully I'll have more time to write soon.


	10. A King and His Vibranium Suit

_**Set during Captain America-Civil War**_

* * *

 _ **Bucky is framed for the bombing in Vienna, Charlotte's loyalty to Bucky remains strong, and the new King of Wakanda wants justice for his father's death and will do anything to get it. Charlotte will do anything to protect Bucky.**_

* * *

"Faster, faster, faster," Charlotte chanted to herself as she struggled to catch up to Bucky while the stranger in the black suit chased after her on foot, shocking her with his speed. The stranger was only a few yards behind and she scolded herself repeatedly for being bested by a man in a cat suit a few minutes prior on the roof. When she told Bucky to keep running as she fought the man, she didn't actually expect for him to be a challenge as very few people are for her.

The silver claws had certainly taken her by surprise, but she could tell her reflexes and ivory claws had equal effect on him, though they failed to even pierce through his suit and hurt like hell when they scratched the surface of the strange fabric. It felt an awful lot like clawing at Steve's shield, which she loathed to do.

Unfortunately, he had been more successful, as shown by the three clean tears on her stomach. The wounds had already began to heal but the blood slicking her skin and soaked into her shirt would undoubtedly remain there as a reminder of her small defeat until she could wash off.

The police motorcycle she hijacked was fast, but Bucky was still quite a bit ahead. She hoped to reach him before the others.

Unsurprisingly, with a quick look behind her, Captain America was gaining speed, driving his own stolen police vehicle and she narrowed her eyes at him as he made quick eye contact with her. A warning if he ever saw one, but of what he wasn't sure. Then as an answer, the man after her Bucky had the foresight to hitch a ride with Steve and had done so with an impressive leap and an even more impressive grip. Charlotte growled and shook her head before facing forward again.

Determined to stay in the lead, Charlotte continued to zig zag through the other cars. Many of them swerving out of her way. She kept her sights on Bucky, and was relieved to see that she was only moments away from him. Then to her horror, a brigade of police came at him head on. Her tires squealed on the pavement as she squeezed her breaks. Relief swept through her as he quickly changed course and escaped them by running through oncoming traffic. She followed him, her tires squealing at her sudden spead and gave her lover a broad smile as she came to drive right alongside him. She slowed down a bit to keep pace with him as he continued to sprint.

"Would you like a ride?" She called to him playfully and he managed to roll his eyes at her even while he took her offered hand. With a strong tug, she helped swing him on the motorcycle behind her. "Grab the bars!" Bucky followed her command and in an abnormally graceful move that shouldn't be possible on a speeding motorcycle, she managed to turn her body so that she was facing Bucky rather than away from him, her legs on either side of his hips. "Hello, handsome," she cooed affectionately, before suddenly kissing him fully on the mouth with a bruising force. She laughed at his incredulous expression he gave her, and with one look in her eyes he knew that she was having a little bit of fun amidst all the chaos. For just a moment, this brought on the strangest sense of deja-vu, but it escaped him as fast as it came.

In another graceful manner, she quickly plopped herself behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and gave him another kiss on the spot between his shoulder blades.

She let relief expand through her chest at having him in her arms once more, knowing that she would survive anything thrown at her as long as he was there with her.

The relief was short-lived however as Bucky's arm suddenly shot out and caught a flying figure by the neck with his flesh hand. A sudden choked sound came from the stranger's lips before he twisted his body as much as he could to run his feet along the wall beside them and towards the ceiling before pushing his body over their heads. The strength of his move tipped the bike over and Charlottes arms remained tightly around Bucky as his metal arm scraped against the pavement to kept them from crashing. Sparks flew towards their faces.

Charlotte screamed as metal claws dug into her shoulders for balance and with a cry full of rage, she elbowed the man in the face with all her might, just as Bucky shot his leg out to kick him off. Claws cut deep into her back, shredding her black shirt with their grip, before disappearing altogether as the man fell away.

"Motherfucker!" She cursed with her eyes clenched shut in pain while Bucky righted them once more.

"Charlotte! Left pocket!"

After a deep breath, she did as she was told all the while ignoring the stinging pain all along her back. In her hand she found the very same bomb she questioned Bucky about taking from the Hydra Base they raided all those weeks ago and she thanked the skies above that Bucky hadn't listened to her when she said they wouldn't need explosives.

In a calculated throw, Charlotte flung the device upward and it latched on to the edge of the overpass just as they cleared it. The explosive sound made her wince, but hope surged in her heart once more, thinking they just might make it, but it was once again short-lived when a sudden hit against the back tire sent her and Bucky rolling off the bike. She came to a stop before Bucky, right beside the man in black. He ignored her and surged towards a recovering Bucky, who landed on his back. Quickly, she reached forward and wrapped her small hand around the man's ankle, keeping him from Bucky. The instinct and drive to protect flowed deeply through her, knowing that if it came down to it, she'd die to keep him safe. The man turned on her angrily and kicked her hand away, claws raised to strike. She was about to shut her eyes when a flash of red, white, and blue jumped over her and tackled her enemy away. She sat up, her glowing green eyes meeting the icy blue of her lover's and they immediately reached towards one another, his hand wrapping tightly around her's. His grip was slightly painful, as it hand been his silver hand, but she knew it was loving all the same.

Just as they all stood, facing the enemy, another person in metal armoured suit landed between both parties and aimed massive guns equipped on his arms at them.

"Stand down!" The order was clear, the threat unsaid.

Steve stood protectively beside Charlotte and Bucky, both were standing in front of her, blocking her from the metal man's aim. She couldn't help but reach out and take Steve's hand in hers as well. Steve tensed before his hand relaxed and wrapped around hers, squeezing gently.

A silent promise that he was on thier side.

She hadn't seen him since D.C., but a lot has changed since then. A lot of memories recovered. While she wanted nothing more than for her and Bucky to be a continent away from Steve and the friends he keeps, she was glad that he clearly still cared for Bucky and her enough to protect them.

The man in the cat suit stood across from them, glaring under his masked eyes at Bucky, back straight and his claws at ready. Charlotte could feel her skin knitting back together, the wounds on her back still fresh from his attach on her. Her upper lip curled instinctively at the threat, two sharp canines in view for them all to see. She only noticed she was growling when Steve squeezed her hand once more.

The Police finally caught up, guns readily in hand as they closed in on the group. Charlotte glanced upward at the helicopters overhead.

When Bucky was ripped out of her grasp, she reached for him, ready to fight everyone off to get to him, but paused at the stern look he gave her and the subtle shake of his head.

No more fighting, he told her through his eyes as he was shoved onto his knees.

Her eyes stayed glued to his, even as Steve was also pulled from her grasp and forceful hands grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back. She couldn't look away from him.

She knew that while the cuffs were made for stronger beings like herself, she could still break free if she tried, but when Bucky allowed himself to be escorted into an ominous armoured vehicle, she couldn't bring herself to make the attempt and instead allowed the armed men to shove her into a separate car. They obviously had no idea who she was or what she was capable of, otherwise they'd be putting her in a separate vehicle like they were with Bucky.

Steve called out to her from behind as he was escorted after her with his friend with wings and the other man who was revealed to be some kind of royalty if the other's reactions to his face meant anything; quietly, Steve told her to stay calm. He'd get them out somehow, he promised. She didn't care as long as she was going where Bucky was going.

Before the car was started, she made eye contact with the man whose claws tore into her skin. He sat two rows ahead. His face was blank, but his eyes were curious as he took in the exposed skin of her torso where he expected the wounds made by his hand to be open and bleeding. The wet blood was the only evidence that he had marked her and when he raised his eyes and caught sight of her glowing iris' and bared teeth, he knew she wasn't as weak as she looked.

She refused to speak, even to Steve when he asked her if she was all right. She only kept her eyes ahead, on the vehicle she knew her Bucky sat, alone, with guns trained on him. Just the thought made her hands clench, which Sam had noticed beside her with a wary eye.

It wasn't until hours later, after their plane touched down in Berlin, that she found her voice while she was once again seated besides Sam, behind Steve and who she learned to be the Wakandan Prince, soon to be King after his father's sudden death.

"So," Sam started, after hours of tense silence, "You like cats?"

Charlotte snorted and Sam smirked at her while Steve said Sam's name in warning..

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat, and you don't want to know more?"

Steve paused, eyes on the young king sitting ahead of him.

"Your suit...Is it vibranium?"

A few moments go by without words when T'challa finally speaks, his accent heavy.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakana for generations. A mantle passed, from warrior to warrior. Now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of King. So I ask you, as both warrior and King, how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?"

Steve's jaw tensed as he looked away, unable to answer. But Charlotte leaned forward, fury in her glowing eyes and fierce protectiveness burning in her heart.

"Longer than you think," she hissed, causing Steve's head to whip around and stare at her in surprise.

The young King turned slightly in his seat, his eyes meeting hers, curiosity swimming within them.

" _Who are you_?"

Charlotte doesn't answer him for two reasons; she didn't know how to answer his question and she wasn't sure if she should even try should he use her identity against her in anyway.

Steve answers for her, to her annoyance.

"Her name is Charlotte."

The young King kept his eyes on her.

Slowly, T'challa asks, "Why do you protect him so?"

This answer was simple. She didn't hesitate. "I love him."

"How can you love a man like _him_?"

She sat back, her eyes defiant. "It's easy- like breathing."

Disgust flashes through his dark eyes with a hint of pity for her loving what he deemed to be a monster. He had no idea that she was one, too.

"I won't rest until he is punished for my father's death."

"He didn't kill your father," She snapped. "He was never even in Vienna. He was _home_ , with me in Bucharest. He's been framed. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can catch the one responsible."

"He _is_ responsible!" The King shouted so suddenly that Charlotte started in her seat before narrowing her eyes at him as he quickly composed himself. "The evidence is clear and luckily for you, there is nothing tying you to the crime, _yet_...but if you do not stay out of my way, you will meet the same fate as your beloved."

She remembered the searing pain his vibranium claws caused on her flesh, the amount of blood that poured from her wounds before they closed, the way her own claws did nothing to him but bounce off of the strange material of his panther suit. While it was hard to kill Charlotte, it wasn't impossible and she clenched her teeth at the memory of T'challa standing over her after she grabbed his ankle to keep him away from Bucky, his claws held above his head and ready to strike down on her. She hadn't felt fear like that in a long time. When she focused, she found Steve and Sam staring at her, in both concern and question as she leaned forward once more, in her emotional state, her eyes became more vibrant in color and burned more vibrantly. Her voice became cold.

"Then you better make sure you have that little kitty suit on, because without it, you're no match for me."

The King's face remained stony.

She was the only one to notice the change in his demeanor due to her enhanced senses. She could smell his wariness. Smell the discomfort while he glanced at her sharp teeth and glowing eyes. She was the only one to see how tense he held himself for the rest of the trip as her gaze burned into the back of his head.

* * *

 **I'm really horrible at updating, so I'm really sorry for the wait and I'll try to do better.**

 **If there's mistake in spelling or whatever, ignore it for now, I'll fix it later. I just wanted to post this asap.**

 **Hope this chapter was okay.**


	11. Oh Brother

_**When Charlotte and Bucky are living with the Avengers after all the bad blood.**_

* * *

It had been dark where she was. And quiet. So quiet, in fact, that if she focussed hard enough, she could hear the loud, obnoxious music coming from a few floors below her. This told her that she wasn't the only one awake at the late hour. Charlotte wasn't surprised, Tony slept even less than she did at times.

After falling asleep, she had a dream. Or rather, a dream of a memory that she hadn't quite recovered yet. Bruce had suspected that she would likely be recovering old memories throughout the rest of her life. Meaning, HYDRA's damage was too great to heal, even with her accelerated regenerative healing.

A gunshot wound can heal in minutes, but her mind would be scrambled forever.

She sighed at the thought and mentally shook her head to rid herself of it.

The steady drip of her bathtub drain was a welcome distraction. Charlotte let the sound drown everything else out while she gently ran her fingers over the bubbles covering her body and floating in the water around her.

A subtle green glow illuminated the room, cast simple shadows on the walls, and flickered with every blink she took. She was in her bath, soaking in soothing hot water. The lights were off.

As strange as it was, this had become a habit she'd gotten during the months she and Bucky spent in Europe running from everyone and everything.

 _It started on a night where they'd spent a few days in a small, yet lovely empty home. The occupants were away on vacation and Charlotte was in desperate need of a shower. In true Bucky fashion, he'd found a way to take care of her, even if it meant doing something as reckless as breaking into someone's home in a populated area. To avoid attention from the neighbors, they refrained from using any electricity. Charlotte hadn't needed light to see so this hadn't really been a problem for her. It was Bucky that always struggled to keep his hands steady and his heartbeat slow whenever light was nonexistent. This hadn't been a problem when he was the Winter Soldier. Darkness didn't scare him. He_ was _darkness. He thrived in it. It was his home back then._

 _Bucky didn't have a problem with the dark until he started to remember he didn't have to be HYDRA's weapon. It wasn't all that he was. He was also James Barnes. And James Barnes hated anything to do with the Winter Soldier. It wasn't that he was scared of the dark. It was the overwhelming sense of belonging that he despised. The comfort. The relief of not being seen. The quick thought in his head he would have everytime the lights would be off- the one where he'd calculate just how easily he could snap someone's neck without them seeing it coming or how many people in a room he could kill without making a sound and disappear before the lights came back on._

 _She had only just settled into her bath when he couldn't take sitting alone in the dark any longer. Bucky had practically barged into the bathroom before dropping himself onto the tiled floor beside her. His back to the cool surface of the tub, eyes on the comforting green glow on the walls as she relaxed in the steaming water. When he had initially stormed in, she had jumped hard enough for some water to slosh over the edge, a curse on the tip of her tongue. When she had taken in the harshness of his breathing and the shaking of his shoulders, she had deflated and continued on with her bath as if he'd been beside her the whole time._

Ever since then, it became somewhat of a tradition on the road whenever they had the chance, to bathe in the dark with him sitting within in reach so that she could comb her warm fingers through his hair. To comfort him with her unique light her eyes provided.

More recently, it was somewhat of a routine they'd have on particularly rough days before going to bed. But, with Bucky away on a mission with Steve, she had forgone the nightly bath entirely and settled in bed without him. Charlotte knew she would probably get little to no sleep without him beside her, but she had no choice but to try.

She had lied awake for hours before finally falling asleep, only to wake up thirty minutes later after reliving a memory in the form of a dream.

Her first thought was to call Bucky. After realizing she couldn't interfere on his mission, she decided to try a bath to relax her enough to fall asleep.

The memory had been a pleasant one, surprisingly enough. It was a memory from her childhood, when she still had one, that is. And it was because it was so pleasant that it troubled her so deeply.

She'd found that many of her warmer and happier memories sometimes hurt more than the ones from her time with HYDRA. It hurt more because she knew she'd never completely have that happiness again.

She dreamt of her brother. He was chasing her down a street with a basket of the shiniest red apples she'd ever seen. He was young, maybe five or six, and he was trying his best to keep up with her longer legs as they raced to their mother's bakery in town to deliver the delicious fruit.

That's all it was. A simple memory of her brother that had her waking up with bittersweet tears running down her face.

The way he snuggled against her as they lied in the sun and pointed out odd shapes in the clouds.

She missed him. Oh, how she missed her baby brother and all she could think about is how she had never went to look for him after being rescued with Dr. Erskine from HYDRA by Peggy. She had the opportunity to go. She remembered Abraham giving her the green light to leave him, the ongoing war, and the Serum all behind, but she couldn't - wouldn't-leave her mentor after all he'd done to take care of her. To protect her. To make her feel human. Then, when he died and she had no more reasons to stay with the SSR, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes grabbed a hold of her heart and they refused to let go. They needed her. And needed something to focus all of her hate and anger at the world and she hated nothing as much as she hated HYDRA.

The irony is not lost on her. She involved herself in a war, put her all into it, gave up everything, including her blood to defeat evil...only to become it.

She should have left it all, as soon as Abraham offered. She could have found her brother, taken him as far as the war as she could and lived a life without pain. Without darkness. Without bloodshed. Without electric chairs and frozen glass coffins.

Without...without Bucky.

A life without him?

Her eyes close; a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. The bathroom goes pitch black and then she's lost.

Bucky; he who walked into the dark apartment, down the hall and into the bedroom to find his lover missing. For just a moment, he panics, assuming the worst, then his more tactical side assures him that no, she didn't leave him; everything of her's is still in the room, even her emergency travel bag. No, she wasn't taken. There's no struggle. And no, she isn't far away, because her spot on the bed is still warm. He looks around as he sets down his bag, removes his suit for missions, it's only when he is left in his boxers that he remembers that the bathroom door was closed when he walked through the hallway.

He finds her there, in the tub with her eyes closed. It's only when he lowers himself to sit on the edge and gently tucks in the loose wet strands from her messy bun behind her ear that her eyes snap open and the comforting green glow of her eyes illuminates the room once more.

"You scared me."

Her words and the breathless sound of her voice made him frown slightly.

"You didn't hear me come in?"

"No...I was lost in thought," she told him while sitting up to get a better look at him.

It wasn't unusual for him to come home with a few new scrapes and bruises after missions, so she overlooks that and stares at his face. His body could handle the abuse. His mind was a different story.

"I'm fine, **mon amour** '," he assured her with a small smile. "Didn't even have to punch anyone to get the files Fury wanted…" he paused before correcting himself with a smirk, "punch _hard,_ I mean."

She didn't smile at him like she would normally.

Instead, she grabbed a hold of his hand and tugged it so that his palm rested against her cheek, and it's only after she sighs in relief that he remembers what time it was and what her baths in the dark usually meant.

" **Tu es vexé. Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?"**

In true Charlotte fashion, she answers the question with one of her own.

"Did you know that I used to have blonde hair?" He sighed, knowing that he would have to wait to find out what has upset her, but he shakes his head in answer anyway.

Even after everything...the war, HYDRA, and joining the Avengers, he still has so much patience for her. It amazed her honestly.

"You're hair was red when I met you." He said to her softly. "It's always been red to me."

"I had a lovely dream earlier. It was a memory from when I was nearly a teenager. It reminded me, that when I was younger, I had blonde hair. Like my mother."

"What was your dream about?"

She smiled a little and answered cryptically, "Apples."

At his confused look, she continued to say, "My family lived on an apple farm. We owned a bakery in town and every Saturday, Lucas and I would pick some of our biggest apples and fill up our baskets to take them to Mama at the bakery so she could make fresh apple tarts to take to Church the next morning. Every time we'd get into town, Lucas wanted to race to Mama to see who could get there the fastest. I always won because I was older and my legs were longer, but he would laugh and chase after me anyway. Every single time he would want to race back home and I'd give him a head start. He would tire himself out and I would end up carrying him on my back the rest of the way and then we'd lay out in the sun, surrounded by our apple trees and stare at the clouds. He'd fall asleep sometimes with his head on my stomach and then around three or so, I'd get Papa to carry him inside when he got home from work at the butcher shop. Lucas would wake up by the time Mama came home before the sun set." She looked Bucky in the eyes, her smile shaky and her eyes wet. "I remembered that. Just earlier when I tried to go to bed."

Tears began to stream down her face and he breath hitched as she tried to keep in a sob that threatened to escape. Bucky's chest ached.

"Oh, sweetheart," Bucky cooed and he helped her out of the bath while she continued to cry as quietly as she could. After wrapping her up in a fluffy towel and giving her one of his shirts to wear, he leads her to bed and tucks her in before sliding in beside her.

"I miss him," Charlotte cried into his neck as he held her. "I never went back for him. I should have went back for him after Abraham died. I should have protected him."

"Char... Baby-"

"I finally had the courage to look him up. I wanted to see what happened to him. I couldn't find anything at first...so I went to Tony for help. Tony gave me this file. _Lucas'_ file. I didn't even know he _had_ a file." Charlotte swallowed thickly, voice tight. "He'd been _there_ , Bucky. _In HYDRA_. He'd joined in the 60's. Then in the 80's he ran away and-and..." Her cries grew louder, her voice nearly hysterical.

"Charlotte-"

" _I killed him!_ "

She began to wail, and Bucky could only hold her tighter and close his eyes as she falls apart in his arms.

He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to tell her. He knew it was selfish of him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her hating him.

"You didn't kill him."

Confused, her body froze and her cries quieted after he'd spoken the words in her ear.

"What? Of course I did, the file said-"

"The file is wrong. You didn't kill him, Charlotte."

"H-How do you know? I..I don't remember. I just know it makes sense that they would send me after him."

"I _remember_. I remember that you didn't kill him, because...because _I did_."

As soon as the words were out, she sat up to look him in the eyes. Aside from the tear tracks on her cheeks and the slight glisten over her eyes, he almost couldn't tell that she'd been crying at all. Her face had gone blank. Devoid of any emotion. He'd rather her be crying and screaming at him. He would even prefer it if she were hitting him in anger than give him the empty look she was giving him right then.

"What do you remember?" She asked, her voice flat.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face before pushing some of his hair back.

"It was one of the missions they had me go on without you. It was in '89 and he was in New York under a different name: Vincent Dubois." Bucky looked away from her. "I didn't know he was your brother when I killed him, Charlotte. _I'm sorry_."

For minutes, neither of them moved a muscle or made a sound. Charlotte didn't know what to say, or even how to feel. She wanted to be angry, but she couldn't get herselt to feel _anything_. She wanted to hate him, like how she had been hating herself for thinking she killed her own brother, but this was Bucky. Her Bucky. She knew, logically, it wasn't his fault. But he'd kept this from her. How long has he known that he killed her brother? She stopped herself from asking him aloud. She didn't want to know.

"My father's name," she heard herself say quietly, "and my mother's maiden name."

His eyes fell shut before saying, "I know, baby.."

She sighed.

"It's alright, amour. I'm not...angry."

"You should be."

"I can't be mad at you, because we both know it wasn't-"

"It was me, Charlotte." Bucky snapped unintentionally. He wouldn't let her try to justify him killing her brother. "The Winter Soldier, James Barnes... _Bucky_. It doesn't matter what my damn name was when it happened. _It was me_. Everything we did, what HYDRA made us do...it was us. It's always going to be us. I'm guilty of those crimes, Charlotte. So are you."

She slipped her fingers through his as her head came to rest on his shoulder once again.

"I know," she whispered. "But I forgive you. And I'm not angry."

"There's something else…"

She sat up once again, brows furrowed.

"What is it?"

"He had a little girl with him."

"What? I-I don't...Did you…?" Bucky shook his head quickly. "Then what... what happened to her?"

She stared at her lover, desperate for answers. Heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Bucky reached up with his flesh hand and held her face, sorrow in his icy blue eyes.

" _I don't know."_

Charlotte wretched herself away from him.

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"I mean I don't know!" Bucky growled. "I didn't kill her. I took her with me. She was part of the mission. I just...the last thing I remember is handing her over."

"Who was she? Why did they want her?" Charlotte began to breath heavily.

Bucky reached for her, but she backed away from him.

"I don't know."

"Just tell me what you do know! Please."

"Charlotte HYDRA wanted your brother killed for a reason...do you know what that was?"

She thought for a moment and told him, "The file...it said he stole something. From HYDRA. Right?"

Bucky nodded the affirmative with a pained frown on his handsome and tired face. He stopped reaching for Charlotte and just sat on the edge of the bed as she stood a few feet away from him, arms wrapped around herself.

"The girl." Bucky told her after some hesitation. When her eyes snapped to his, he took a deep breath and whispered, "He took the girl from HYDRA and they sent me to get her…"

"Which means they were desperate," Charlotte concluded. Bucky agreed with her. "Bucky...what was her name? How old was she? Do you remember?"

"She was three. And…"

"And what? Bucky tell me!"

"Her name was Charlotte."


End file.
